Book 4
by Gavin25
Summary: Just book 4. Pretty unoriginal. Thank you all reviewers! Review if you want, appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

The council was about to begin. Nasuada, Orrin, Nar Garzhvog, Arya, Eragon and Saphira, and a few others who would take notes. They sat in a circle around a great wooden table. Feinster had been taken not two days ago, but as Nasuada said they could not afford to slow down. Eragon's weariness continued to beat down on him. At some moments it rendered him totally thoughtless. The day after the battle Angela had come to him. She had given him a drink which seemed to ease his troubles. She then gave him the ingredients so that he could make it for himself.

Saphira was in a similar mood to Eragon, though her mind was more stable. Eragon hardly latched on to a single word of the council. Only once the conversation had heated up did he finally take an interest.

"It's only a matter of time Nasuada! Only a matter of time until we lose a battle." Orrin was on his feet.

Nasuada remained seated, "What would you suggest Orrin? Give up, stop our advantage out of fear of losing?"

"Not at all! I suggest we proceed with a little more caution. Your passion is commendable, but reason is a little more useful here."

Eragon couldn't decide who seemed correct. He felt a break from battle would not be unwelcome, but also knew they couldn't lapse in pressuring the Empire. It had occurred to him that Nasuada was being a little brash in her strategy, he had little militaristic experience however.

"If we slow down even for a second, Orrin, we not only give the empire a chance to regroup but also abandon the elves. It would fall apart," Nasuada gestured to Arya who had yet to take part.

Orrin looked at Arya, "The elves are more than capable of defending themselves were we to fall back, are they not?"

Arya nodded, "Capable of defending, yes. Of continuing their offensive? Perhaps not so much. The closer we, and the elven army, get to Uru'baen the harder and more intense the battles will become, until the inevitable."

Eragon and Saphira both doubted their abilities to defeat the King, which was another reason Eragon was not in favor of Nasuada's fast approach.

He decided to voice his concern, "The inevitable, as Arya puts it, is what matters. And as of now, I think everyone here will agree, we are not ready to confront it. Nasuada, Saphira and I simply are not ready or able to defeat Galbatorix, and barring some unforeseen event, we won't be for sometime."

Saphira gave a puff of smoke from her nose for emphasis. It was hard for Eragon to voice such things. _Take rest little one, they must understand._

Everyone had fell into silence until Nasuada spoke; and when she did it was with a fatally restrained tone, "And you felt that now was the best time to give word to such things Eragon?"

Eragon was confused, "What?"

"You lack discretion."

Orrin replied, "Now you are dissatisfied with Eragon because he has proposed but one reason that contradicts with your plan. As for discretion what better time than during a war council to say what he has said?"

Nasuada lashed back, "The problem is Orrin, there is no alternative to my plan. It may not seem fail safe but nothing is these days. You just won't see that."

_Little one, something troubles Nasuada._

_Yes, how could she speak like that to us?_

"Will either of you give way?" Arya asked, "Will either give in?"

Nasuada shook her head.

Orrin said, "No, not unless someone gives me a valid reason to do so."

Arya stood, "Will you listen to my Queen's council?"

Orrin said, "Absolutely, she will have the reason needed to solve such a conundrum. Reason and authority."

Nasuada crossed her arms, "She has no official authority here however. I will listen as long as it seems appropriate."

Orrin seemed outraged, "HOW-"

Arya gestured for silence, "That is as I suspected... For the moment I suggest we call for a recess. We are getting nowhere and it will do no good to continue."

Eragon was relieved for this, he needed fresh air.

As he turned and headed for the entrance he felt a hand on his back.

"You have my sympathy Shadeslayer." Orrin walked past.

Eragon found Saphira outside the room trying to stick her head in a bucket of water. Her head however was too large. He found it an amusing sight. He picked up the bucket and threw the water on Saphira's head. _Thank you, the heat is getting to me._

_It's getting to everyone._

_Arya approaches._

He turned around and, sure enough, found the lithe elf striding towards him. His love for her had no way diminished, and the sight of her made his stomach jump. She wore a tight green tunic with black leggings. Her hair was held back in a ponytail.

"Greetings Shadeslayer," She said.

"You mustn't call me that, as you are also a Shadeslayer." She just smiled.

"We must talk." She guided him away.

As they made their way through a maze of tattered streets, Arya spoke.

"How are you Eragon? How is Saphira?"

"We are... lasting. Which is not really enough. I can't seem to shake off a feeling of grogginess. Saphira is the same."

Arya nodded, "It is fatigue. Both mental and physical."

"Angela gave me a little tonic and the means to make it for myself. It helps for a short amount of time."

Arya looked at him. "Do you have any now?"

They turned a corner.

"Uh... yes, hold on." He stopped walking to take out of his bag a little glass bottle. He presented it to Arya.

With thin graceful fingers she took the bottle and unstopped it. To Eragon's faint surprise she took a small sip. She pursed her lips then re stoppered it.

"Angela gave you this without a warning. It's a drug Eragon, you will become addicted to it if you are not careful. Don't have it more than once a week."

Eragon nodded and accepted the bottle back.

Arya took his arm and ushered him on.

"Come," She said.

Saphira, who was following behind, asked _Where are we going?_

"To my room. You surely noticed Nasuada was not herself, yes?"

"Yes we did."

Arya looked down, "I believe I know the reason, we must be in private."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Eventually they arrived at a two story in. It's walls were made of stone which made it stand out from neighboring buildings. Arya entered the building through an unlocked door and took Eragon upstairs. Saphira had to stay outside due to her size.

The two of them walked down a dark corridor lined with weak candles. Arya opened a wooden door on the right and walked into the room.

After she had cast a spell to prevent eaves dropping, she said, "Sit if you will."

Eragon did so on a wooden box. Out of a dresser which sat below a barred window Arya drew a small book. She then sat next to Eragon.

"Nasuada can not keep up her strong independent persona all the time. She came to me in tears a few weeks ago. She had been drinking... a lot. She spoke of a lot of things most of which were anecdotes about her father. After a few hours however she confessed that she was cracking under the pressure of leading the Varden. She felt alone. It was then that she handed me this codex. This diary.

She told me not to judge her too harshly and left."

Arya hand the book to Eragon, "She loves him, Eragon. Murtagh, she loves him. And he's been here a few times to see her when we were caught unaware."

Eragon was stunned. He remembered that Murtagh spoke fondly of Nasuada but he had never thought she might reciprocate those feelings. He took the diary.

Arya continued, "My fear is that she her judgment is tainted now. No one can know. It would cause turmoil. People will call for a coup."

Eragon nodded, "He is the enemy. How could she do this."

Arya looked hard at Eragon, "She loves him, and believes she can release him. Surely that isn't beyond my understanding."

The hidden, perhaps nonexistent, accusation beneath that statement affronted Eragon.

"Beyond my understanding? No. Beyond my sympathy? Yes. Everyone has had to sacrifice. That she would do this, jeopardize everything is inexorable."

Arya raised her eyebrows, "You would condemn her for this? For her actions? Would you risk nothing for those you love?"

Eragon's temper was rising. He couldn't understand where this passion was coming from. "I risk everything for those I love. Her actions do nothing to help Murtagh. The ultimate result is all that matters. All that matters is that Galbatorix is dethroned. Then and only then will other things, loves, matter."

He looked at Arya. She was smiling. What could have made her smile he had no idea.

"What?" He asked.

Arya shook her head, "Peace, your arguments are mine exactly. We must go and confront her."

"Now?"

"Yes, the three of us."

Eragon and Arya met Saphira outside. They headed towards Nasuada's courtroom.

_What do you make of all this Saphira._

_Just what you do little one._

_Why didn't you pipe in earlier._

_Arya wanted to test you._

_Why?_

Saphira snorted, _perhaps she wanted to make sure you both felt the same way before talking to Nasuada._

Eragon shrugged.

Just before opening the door to the courtroom Arya paused.

"You've grown much. Where Nasuada has failed, you must succeed. After all is said and done you are the Varden's only hope." With that she went inside.

Her words heartened Eragon. Anytime he felt he'd pleased her meant the world to him.

_Stop dreaming Eragon and go confront your liege. I however will hunt. The passions of two-legs mean little to me. _

_Smug. _He patted her on the nose and then followed Arya inside.

The large room was empty. It's lonely table sat unadorned in the middle while a great chandelier hung above it. On the far side of the room was a door which led to Nasuada's chambers. Either side of it a guard was posted.

Arya knocked on the door.

A voice floated from inside, "Yes?"

"It is I, Arya, come with Eragon. May we speak?"

The answer was long in coming, "Alright, hold on."

"Enter."

Arya and Eragon walked into the room. On the far end was a bed with silk drapings. A desk sat in the corner near the bed. It was littered with the papers. There were a few papers on the floor, and on the bed sat what looked like the contents of a dresser. Nasuada sat on the edge of the bed looking slightly put out.

"Why have you come?"

Arya once again put up a spell to stop unwanted listeners.

Then she said, "Do you remember nothing of the night you came to me?"

"What night?"

Arya gestured around, "Looking for something?"

Nasuada shrugged, "A hair brush, I lost mine."

Arya sat moved to the desk, and looked down at the papers.

"I have your diary Nasuada. You don't remember giving it to me."

Nasuada's eyes widened. "I never gave it to you! Did you read it?"

Eragon felt a bit of pity for her, she was panicking.

Arya turned her eyes on Nasuada, "Yes you gave it to me, yes I read it. Eragon and I both know about you and Murtagh."

Nasuada looked down at her hands. Eragon couldn't bring himself to speak. He wouldn't know what to say.

Arya sat next to Nasuada. "Our situation has always been precarious at best, this only makes things worse. You must put an end to these rendezvous. No one else knows, no one else can know. However your love for Murtagh is forcing you to make rash decisions. You must remain emotionally distant."

Nasuada stood, "Like Eragon? Why must I, when you yourself who pretends to be cut off from feelings get emotionally involved."

Arya also stood, "You are young Nasuada. Even so you must not let it get the better of you. You've stood out amongst the greatest leaders in history, and you are so close, don't let it slip."

Nasuada withdrew, "Would you lead the Varden Arya, in my place. Is that why you come now. My abilities are failing, you use this chance to strike."

"Never, I would be awful as leader of the Varden. I'm trying to help you Nasuada, help you maintain your position. I know it is hard, but if you do this thing, stay away from Murtagh, it may only be temporarily. After that you can live out your days in his arms."

Nasuada began to tremble, tears poured from her eyes, "I can't, I can't..."

"You can."

Eragon spoke, "Nasuada you must, this is your final test. Nothing more can be asked of you."

Nasuada covered her face, "You condemn me to failure! Don't you see! I can't, I won't, It's over."

Arya took a step towards her, "...why?"

"I'm pregnant!"

Arya's eyes widened. Eragon who had his head down lifted it in shock. Then horror engulfed him. It's over. That can't be hidden, he thought. Even over the distance he felt Saphira's dismay.

Arya remained silent. As did Eragon.

Nasuada said, "You must help me! What can I do?"

She began desperately to claw at Arya's arm. Arya just shook her head in disbelief.

Eragon gulped then said, "Alright, it's done. Now what do we do?"

Nasuada turned to him with pleading eyes.

Eragon's mind was racing. "Nasuada, how far along are you?"

"Two months."

"That gives us time." He locked eyes with Arya who nodded.

Arya placed a hand on Nasuada's shoulder, "You must resign."

"No, I cannot, not now."

"You must."

"Why, this war war can be won in seven months."

Arya's face hardened, "You would risk you unborn child? You must resign. Someone respected must take your place so as not to arouse suspicion about your motives. Jormundur perhaps."

It was the first time that Nasuada seemed like the young girl she was to Eragon. The whole ordeal made Eragon sad, to see this broken woman from the powerful empress she'd been not three hours ago.

"Nasuada," He said, "You must care for your child now. That must become your life. Let others bear your burden."

Slowly she began to regain her composure.

"Ok. You're right. I must."

Arya nodded, "Start thinking about who should succeed you. Rest, we will sort this out."

Nasuada began to weep, she hugged Arya who clasped held her tenderly. "Thank you, thank you."

Eragon took his leave of the room. After a minute or two Arya appeared.

She looked at Eragon and sighed, "That went well."

Eragon laughed.

"She's confident in Jormundur, as am I, to take over. We must speak to him." She glanced at Eragon. "Perhaps after some lunch though. You need food, I can see it."

"Aye," He replied, "will you eat?"

"Yes, I could do with something."

They set off together to find food.


	2. Process

Eragon heard a wrapping on his door.

"Hold on!" He donned his shirt, "Alright... come in."

From his desk Eragon turned to see Roran enter the room. His eyes were baggy and red. He wore a grim smile however.

"Cousin Shadeslayer," he said.

Eragon shook his head, "None of that Roran. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, must I have a reason to see my brother?"

"No... but rarely do you come without a motive."

Roran looked a little uncomfortable. He rubbed his beard with one hand and the back of his head with the other.

"I really just need someone to talk too," he sat, "Katrina is to leave the Varden, once she gives birth."

Eragon had suspected this but had devoted little thought to how much it would hurt Roran.

Eragon asked, "You are unhappy with this decision?"

"Unhappy? Of course I'm unhappy. But that's not the point. I don't believe she'll be safer anywhere else. I mean where is safe nowadays?"

Eragon nodded, Roran continued.

"Wherever she may go, the Varden will surely be close behind anyway. So what's the point? The worst thing is that I can't tell her, lest I drive her to despair. What can I do?"

Eragon pulled out Angela's tonic and poured a thimble full into a glass. He handed it to Roran who took and drank it without hesitation.

"Mmm, what is this drink?" He asked.

"A potion of Angela the Herbalist's. You need to calm yourself Roran." Eragon returned to his seat without drinking any himself. "I believe you're right, nowhere is safe. Least of all the Empire. However the Varden is also unfit for children."

Roran's face fell. "What then?"

Eragon shook his head, "I've no answer for you. You must decide, you and Katrina."

Roran clapped his hands together, "That is not good enough. I can't decide!"

"What would you have me do, Roran?"

Roran turned on him, "You're a rider! You've got power. Sort something out for her."

"I'm a rider, not a God. You must sort this out yourself," Eragon was getting angry now, "She won't have the baby for months. Circumstances may have changed by then."

Roran turned and left the room, shutting the door with a bang.

Eragon called out, "Roran!"

Eragon swiped papers from his desk in frustration. "Dammit!"

He stormed out into the hallway. Roran was already gone. He decided to get some fresh air anyway. Once outside he spotted Saphira slumbering in a courtyard bathed in falling sunlight.

_Don't worry, Little one. He must just be having a bad day._

Eragon sighed, _Aye._

_Will we going flying this evening?_

Eragon smiled, his mood lightening. _Well, let's go now!_

Eragon leapt from his distance of twenty feet away onto Saphira's back. He positioned himself on the saddle and strapped himself in. Saphira took two great strides before her shoulders tensed and she fired herself into the air.

Eragon relished the warm evening wind on his face. His hair whisked around him as a broad smile spread across his face. When he and Saphira flew together he could forget all his troubles, life was a happy thing.

Saphira glanced back briefly. _I hope to see the great desert again. Roam the skies over __seas of sand. Goddess of the air._

Eragon patted her back. _Are you not already Goddess of the air?_

_Perhaps, but I wish not to compete for my spot._

Eragon sighed. _Alas we can not be truly happy until Galbatorix is dead._

_No we cannot. We must take pleasure out of what little joys life gives us._

Eragon nodded. The dragon and rider flew as silhouettes in the sun until the massive fire ball fell behind distant hills.

Later that night Eragon accompanied Arya to speak with Jormundur.

After telling him Nasuada's predicament he had gone into a rage. It took several minutes for the two of them to calm him down and explain what they asked of him.

"Me lead the Varden?" He asked. "The council would not allow it."

Eragon said, "The council have no power any more Jormundur."

He turned a stern eye on Eragon. "Not necessarily a good thing Shadeslayer. The council grew corrupt, yes, but the ideals behind it were honest, and right."

Arya then spoke. "And once in power you can begin to rebuild the council. Make the Varden a democracy. It requires a leader to do so however, a leader we believe you are. Obviously you should not take this position unwillingly, know however there are next to no other options."

Jormundur banged his fist against the wall. "Damn! Why could Nasuada not contain herself! Of all people! All her passion for what her Father sought to achieve."

"Realize," Arya said, "it is her passion for Murtagh as well as her father that has driven her so far. She has already done more for the Varden than most before can claim."

Jormundur's eyes softened, he fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. "So, I must take the position then."

Eragon nodded. "Yes, and the transition must be fluid. Natural. So if you will take the offer then we must begin to devise a plan for your take over."

Arya looked at Eragon, then at Jormundur. "We must also contain what we know. Tell no one, not even Roran, Eragon."

Eragon gave a short harsh chuckle. "No problem there." Arya's gaze lingered on Eragon for a moment before moving on to Jormundur.

"Aye, not to worry. I will take the position."

Relief lit Arya's face. "Thank you Jormundur. We should arrange a meeting tomorrow. Garzhvog and Orik should know what is happening. Nasuada too should be present. Since the Orik will not be here yet I suggest we wait."

Jormundur frowned. "What of the war council, what will the Varden do now?"

Arya thought for a second, her large eyes as sparkling emeralds. "The Varden must remain in Feinster for another week, by which time the dwarves will have arrived. I can contact my Queen and explain. The elves will hold their position until we are ready to continue. The Varden cannot afford to be stretched right now."

Jormundur nodded.

Eragon shifted. "If that is all for now, I need some rest." He patted Jormundur and nodded to Arya.

Once outside he found Saphira. He stood next to her and rested a hand on her flank. _Never has our situation seemed so dire._

_No. It could, however, be much worse. _

_Should we tell Blodhgarm about all that's happened? _

_If you wish. It may be best to let Arya inform the other elves._

_Right._

Saphira's tail twitched.

_Saphira?_

_I was just thinking... we can't do it. We have to put much more thought to Solembum's words. The first part of his instruction came true, so what about the other part? The Vault of Souls._

Eragon had let it slip his mind, with all that had gone on. _Aye, but what can we do? Even Oromis couldn't tell us._

_True._

Mentioning Oromis's name brought pain to Eragon's heart and tears to his eyes. He'd done all that was possible to keep his mind off the death of his Master, excepting an hour each night to which he dedicated to mourning. It was, as Arya had told him, how the elves mourn for their dead. The process lasts for a month until the magic from their tears become one and part of nature. The subtleties of the ritual escaped Eragon, but he took part never the less. As well as that he also spent a good half an hour each night speaking to Glaedr's eldunari. He and Saphira spoke soft words to Glaedr's heart, caressing it in hopes that they might lure him from his silence. So far they'd had no luck.

That night Eragon collected the eldunari from a bag in his room. Then he and Saphira took to a large granite rock which stood slanted up and outward away from the city. It's large face gathered the Sun's radiance every morning in which Eragon had often enjoyed basking.

They watched the stars overhead in silence. Arya occupied most of Eragon's thoughts. He'd given up trying to forget his feelings for her. If it would happen, it would happen naturally.

He laughed to himself.

_What's funny little one?_

_"Naturally." That word I use as an excuse. I say 'just let things sort themselves out naturally', but it's just laziness. No, tomorrow and from that day onward I will use all the energy I have to fighting and bringing down Galbatorix.._

_You say that now, Little One, but what will happen when tomorrow comes. You can do no more than you are already doing. Let your conscience not torture you so._

Eragon hugged Saphira's neck. She began to purr softly.

_Perhaps, perhaps they're just empty musings inspired by the beauty of the stars._

The thoughts of the previous night didn't totally leave Eragon however. He resolved to find Joed. The tall, bald bibliophile had been going through pages and pages of ancient texts- given to him as a task by the Varden. Eragon hoped he had learned something about either Kuthian or the interior of Uru'baen- which was where he suspected Galbatorix's stash of eldunari to be.

Saphira had told Eragon she would go and talk to Solembum. The two were close, a strange but maybe not a totally unlikely pairing. After all they were both powerful magical creatures. Saphira said she would try to pry some more information out of him, however she was pessimistic.

After what seemed like hours of questioning and being moved from person to person, an old smith told him that Joed and his wife, Helen, resided outside of the city walls in a temporary pavilion.

He found Joed before his marquee, drinking a cup of steaming tea. His squinting eyes beheld a decrepit scroll.

"Hail Joed!"

The man gave a start. "Oh!" He realized who it was. "Oh Eragon! Good to see you dear boy! Very good indeed."

Eragon laughed and patted him on the back. "Good to see you as well. You are looking healthy."

Joed smiled. "It's the sun. Too long living by the cold, cloudy sea is not good for one's skin. But come- to what do I owe the visit?"

"I came to ask you if you'd had any luck with your work. Any secret tunnels into Uru'baen to tell me about?"

"I'm afraid not. Not yet at least. I remain optimistic though, there must be something I'm missing." Joed frowned as though try to scrutinize each the very air. Then he shook his head and smiled again at Eragon. "Is that all you came to say?"

"Not quite. Is the name Kuthian familiar to you at all?"

Joed's face lit up with recognition before he hesitated. "I'm sure I've come across that name. It sounds so... well, familiar. If I know it from these texts I will have most definitely recorded it somewhere. I'll look through and tell you if I find anything."

A touch of excitement zipped through Eragon. Now he was getting somewhere. "Thank you."

"Not at all, not at all. May I ask; Where did you hear the word?"

"I don't want to keep you in the dark Joed, but I must be careful. If you can understand."

That seemed to pique his curiosity but he didn't purue it. "Will you stay for a drink?"

Eragon accepted and followed Joed into the spacious tent.

"Where is Helen?"

Joed opened a trunk and removed a thick brown mug. He filled it with a translucent liquid tinted the same color as the mug. He handed it to Eragon. "She met a woman who shares her interest in flowers... or music... or something." He shrugged. "She spends a lot of time with the woman. I think she feels sorry for her. She lost her husband in the burning plains."

Eragon took a sip of his tea which scolded his tongue. "Ah. And what does she plan to do with the gold?"

Joed waved his hands as if they were burned. "Oh no! Don't ask me. She becomes furious when I try and interfere with her 'business'. I've learned to stay out of all that."

Eragon laughed for a moment. "Things go well for you two though?"

"Aye they do. Better than they have done for years." They drank in silence for several minutes. Finally Joed shifted. "Where is your mistress?"

"She is out on her own business. Hunting or something." Eragon gestured indifference. He gulped down the last of his tea which had since cooled.

Joed stood, as did Eragon, and the two shook hands. "Don't forget to come to me as soon as you learn something Joed."

"That I won't. It is good to have a bit of direction after aimless reading."

"Take care." Eragon turned on his heal and left, ducking below a flap of cow skin.

After a few paces Joed's voice cut through the air.

"Say hello to Roran for me!"


	3. Why'd she do that?

**Okay... Is this allowed? If not I won't do it again. **

**The mistress Joed was referring to was Saphira. Sorry if that wasn't clear. **

**I'm aware the story is a little dull so far... it should pick up soon though.**

**Thank you all reviewers! I didn't think anyone would like this :S  
**

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King Orik was to arrive with his kinsmen within the next two days.

Nasuada had received a missive via bird. She agreed to continue as leader until situations allowed her to forfeit her post. As none knew- save for Jormundur- Nasuada still had total power and respect of her people. She conceded that she was not in the correct state of mind to make decisions as grand in scope as invading the Empire, however. So for the last few days and for days to come the Varden would be static.

News reached the Varden of small groups of men and women in the Empire who rebelled against Galbatorix. Most were very underground and secretive, but a few actually began riots and boycotts; burning and destroying the military supplies. It was a very messy and unorganized effort but it was heartening to know that there were people who would defy the King.

Just earlier, Nasuada had informed Eragon that Roran would be part of unit that would infiltrate the Empire and try to recruit these rebels. It would be a very dangerous mission, but she believed, as did Eragon, that Roran possessed the skill of tongue needed to inspire their mutiny. After all, he'd got the near entire population of Carvahall to follow him across the world.

Eragon was now cleaning his blade and marveling at it's shimmering beauty. He sat in the shade of a tall tree that resembled a palm tree. He pondered whether or not he should make up with Roran before he left on this mission.

He already knew the answer but was reluctant. Saphira padded towards him, her jaws open in a slight pant.

_Go and see him, Eragon. You don't know when might be the last time you two will talk._

Eragon sighed and sheathed his blade. _You're right... I'm must make things better._

So Eragon headed off through the city. The debris of the previous week's battle had been cleaned. The natives who were deemed not a threat to the Varden were allowed to go back to somewhat normal life. Most of Feinster's residents were permitted to follow whatever trade they wished. Other's volunteered to join the Varden's troops. Some, however, resented the Varden's imperialism. Those few who resisted the takeover had been arrested to prevent them from causing harm or unrest.

Eragon found Katrina eyeing some trinkets which a vendor was selling for an unfair price. Eragon knew she could not afford such treasures. When she spotted Eragon her eyes brightened, and she lifted a hand in welcome. "Eragon! It's good to see you!"

He gave her a brief hug. "You too. You are looking healthy."

She dipped her head. "I'm recovering. Though it will take a little longer to recover mentally."

"Of course. Is Roran around?"

She nodded. "Yes, and he can't wait to thank you!"

Eragon's eyebrows nitted together. "What for?"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Why does he wish to thank me?"

"For asking the elves to house me, silly."

Eragon was puzzled. "For-"

Just then Roran appeared at Eragon's side. He slapped Eragon on the back and lifted him into a rough hug. "I knew you would come through Eragon! Thank you so much!"

Trying to figure out what was going on, Eragon rolled with it. "You're welcome. How did you find out?"

He knew it was a strange question but Roran was to jubilant to think about it. "Arya told me yesterday. I was still fuming with you when she came to me and said that the elves would accept our- that is _your_- request. I tell you I felt higher than a cloud."

Katrina laughed and held his arm. "I cannot believe that I will soon be dwelling with elves."

Roran put his nose to Katrina and they began muttering to eachother.

_Saphira, how on earth did Arya know?_

_I don't know. Perhaps she guessed._

He narrowed his eyes in thought. _I'm still confused. Why did she do it?_

_To be nice._

_Maybe... Sloan though, is also with the Elves. That's going to be a problem._

Saphira's massive shoulders rolled. _Du Weldenvarden is a big place, she could stay leagues away from Sloan._

Eragon shrugged.

He returned to his surroundings and found Roran and Katrina still whispering in each other's ears. They giggled and blushed in a way that made them seem younger than they were. Eragon smiled to himself. Why had Arya done that?

Eragon caught Roran's eye. "I'm sorry to interrupt. We're alright though now, eh?"

Roran laughed. "Aye, more than alright."

"Good. Then good luck. Stay safe. Don't do anything unnecessarily risky." Eragon said the last with a smile.

"Hypocrite!"Roran's laughs seemed endless.

Katrina turned back to browsing through the expensive items.

Eragon swiped a few coins from his pouch and leaned in to shake Roran's hand. He slipped Roran the money smoothly and said quietly, "Buy your wife something nice."

He gave his cousin one last pat on the back before heading back to Saphira. Roran's laughter sounded behind him.

That night a tumultuous dream ravaged Eragon's sleep.

_Great bolts of lightening struck a scorched plain. The world tilted glowing bright shades of purple and blue. Cries rose and fell from unknown places. Intense nausea suffocated his other definitive senses. The constant swirl began to steady. The dark cold skies grew lighter. An immense voice rippled from the heavens. The words could not be heard but it's message was clear. 'Everything will be fine.' The clouds parted, giving birth to infinite beyond. Endless erupted._

Eragon woke with a start. He scarcely had a thought before falling back to sleep.

A horn sounded through the city; loud and regal. Eragon jolted upright. He gathered and threw on his clothes quickly. Down the corridor he sprinted, his excitement grew when he recognized the second ring of the trumpets. Dwarves. He found Saphira and mounted her immediately. She sprung into the air with mighty flaps of her leathery wings.

Saphira hovered above the city walls allowing Eragon a view of the newcomers. A great host loomed on the horizon. They moved slowly yet steadily like a glacier; nigh unstoppable. Pride touched his heart when he remembered that he belonged to one of their sacred clans. Eragon and Saphira decided to meet them half way. Eragon looked forward to seeing Orik again. They'd become good friends and he wondered what the Dwarf King would think of the developments at the Varden.

Once they were within a hundred yards, Saphira landed and Eragon dismounted. He identified Orik at the head of the army. He wore a suit of armor tinted red. In his right hand was his helm, in his left a golden horn carved in the likeness of a Furdunost horn.

Eragon hailed, and Orik rose a hand in response. The great host slowed as with Orik as they approached.

"Eragon! It is hot, how do you stand it?"

Eragon grinned. "Not easily."

Orik bowed to Saphira. _Good meeting O' mighty One._

_Good meeting King Orik._

"No official titles please," Orik said, "especially not from you two."

"Very well. But let us walk. I'm meant not to stop your march. An impressive sight you make. It looks as if every dwarf has come."

Orik chuckled, the sound of rolling stones. "Not quite. True though, many have come. Most of Tronjheim is empty. The outlying cities are all but emptied, and the scattered outposts joined the procession as we passed."

"The journey went well though?"

"It did."

They continued walking in silence as they traversed through a slightly more rocky terrain. The footsteps of the many thousands of Dwarves made a sound akin to waves crashing and breaking on a cliff side.

"How goes it here?"

Eragon hesitated before answering. "Fine."

Orik glanced at him. "What was that?"

Eragon just shook his head. "Later."

The dwarf looked interested and wary. "What is it?"

"Later." Eragon whispered. Then louder for the sake of those who would hear. "Nothing. Everything is good."

Orik nodded and looked down. His face betrayed his thoughts, however.

The two of them exchanged pleasantries all the way into the city. Orik was sad at having to leave Hvedra behind while he went off to war. Hvedra had become pregnant since Eragon left Farthen Dur and would now bear the child alone. As Orik said thought it only added extra incentive to come back victorious.

Eragon and Saphira left Orik in front of Nasuada's courtroom. They were unsure of how much Nasuada would tell Orik now. Probably nothing. A meeting would be held the following day according to a message relayed by the reliable Varden messenger boy, Jarsha.

Eragon and Saphira strolled down a relatively quiet cobbled road. Lining the pavements were shrubs from which grew herbs of many kinds. The heavy smell intoxicated Eragon and made him slightly giddy. A few raggy children played in the middle of the path. They spotted Saphira and scurried off to the side with wide eyes. After Eragon and Saphira had passed they resumed their game.

Eragon smiled that they could still have fun during these times. A patter of footsteps sounded behind him. He turned and found Joed walking briskly up to him.

"I would really like to know where you learned that name." Said Joed.

Eragon and Saphira stopped walking. "You discovered something?"

"Aye. I did. I would like to know who could have told you that name." He repeated.

Saphira snorted. _We will gladly tell you Joed... after you tell us; What have you found?_

Joed gave a shallow bow to Saphira. "As you wish. The name Kuthian is the name of an ancient God, a Diety. The word Kuthian roughly translates to 'Keeper of the Passing'. His worshipers were a Nomadic tribe who used to reside in the Haradic Desert."

Eragon strove to keep the information fresh in his mind. He gestured to a stone stairwell off the side of the road where they might sit.

Joed continued. "And it is in their ancient dialect that the translation is made. Understand that this tribe- Quoztacs as they called themselves- are so unknown that only a few sources would mention them. I doubt even the book I gave you would have much on them. And if they are ever referred to now, it is as mythology not history."

Eragon asked, "But do you know otherwise? I mean to say; did they exist?"

Joed nodded. "Well once I found the name I pursued more information among those lines. Anything I could find. More than once I went through totally irrelevant material. I discovered, however, that they were but one of a triad of tribes in the Desert. The other two, who's names I were unable to glean, each placed priorities on worshiping different Gods. Let me make this straight."

Joed shifted and settled into a more comfortable position, indicating the potential length of their conversation. "The three tribes worshiped the same Gods, or Querls in their tongue, but each tribe placed more importance on a single Querl than the others. It was a pact of sorts to appease all three of the Deities. The name of the other Gods were; Zhitzeh (Caretaker) and Khy (Consequence).

Sometime during these tribes' most prosperous moment, the Gods fought. That is what I read. I take it to mean the tribes fought and blame was placed on the divine. Even so, the ultimate reign fell solely to the tribe of the Quoztacs, under Kuthian. What happened to the other tribes I know not."

From a sack which lay across his lap, Joed drew a stack of stationary. Writing had been scribbled all over the pages in what looked like an attempt at organization. "Take this. It goes into further details that you can read for yourself. I will keep an eye out for anything more but I tend to think I was lucky to find what I did."

Eragon took the papers. "Thank you. I owe you an explanation I believe."

Joed smiled. "That you do!"

Eragon set the pile of pages down beside him. "Well the story actually takes place next door to your house, when Brom and I came to visit."

Joed's eyes widened. "Indeed?"

"Yes. You surely know Angela the Herbalist?" He gestured that he did. "The werecat Solembum was present in her shop at the time that she foretold my future. Just before I left he told me two things. One was to look under a great tree in the elves' forest for a weapon, the other was to go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak my name to open the Vault of Vouls."

Eragon hesitated before adding, "The weapon part came true. I found the steel necessary to forge my blade."

Joed rubbed his hands together. "Is that right? Rock of Kuthian. Vault of Souls." He repeated those words as if exercising them into his mind. "Well look through the stuff I gave you. I didn't read it all and you may find something about it in there."

Saphira nudged Eragon. _Did you not make him a promise that I would permit him to fly with me?_

_Oh yes! I forgot._

One of Saphira's great eyes rolled to look at Joed. _He's been a great help. Ask him if he would be willing to go for a ride now?_

_Are you sure?_

_Of course! You were eager to offer it to him without my permission, what has changed with it?_

_Fair enough._

Eragon stood and touched the man on the shoulder. "Joed, Saphira would be willing take you above the clouds now. You've done much for us and she wishes to repay you."

A slight grunt came from Saphira.

"And I promised you."

Joed looked taken aback. His jaw hung loose like a half unhinged window. "Do you mean it? I mean, can I?"

Eragon laughed. "Yes, and be quick! She won't wait forever."

Joed looked on the verge of tears. "It's an honor."

Getting the old man upon Saphira proved to be a bigger problem than they could foresee. When he did actually manage to scale her massive hide, his balance wavered like a drunk in a storm. Eragon thought it didn't help that Joed was practically in a daze.

Eventually, by the use of many attempts and many ropes, they secured Joed onto the saddle. His expression was one of a child who'd wandered into a sweetshop. Saphira leaped from where she stood and took off into the endless sky.

Eragon watched her as a speck in the distance until he remembered what Joed had given him. He collected the reading material and sought somewhere quiet.


	4. Council pt 1

Eragon found himself, once again, seated in the court room. Around him sat Arya, Nasuada, Orrin, Jormundur, and Orik, note takers were forbidden from this meeting. Nar Garzhvog was yet to arrive, so the group waited in silence.

Finally great heavy footsteps could be heard leading up to the door. The Urgal leader walked in with a heavy grunting pant and stood against the wall, ignoring the vacant seat meant for him. "I apologize for my tardiness, Lady Nightstalker. Two young rams got into a struggle over a female- I won't get into it."

Nasuada smiled. "Don't apologize." To Eragon her smile appeared to be crooked with anxiety.

It was then that Arya stood. "Now that we are all here, let's begin." She surveyed her audience briefly, before continuing. "The content of today's meeting will be a little heavier than it previously has been. A situation has arisen that has complicated things. I must ask, for the sake of order, to keep your thoughts to yourself until I am done explaining. Also it is vital that nobody lets slip any of the information that passes through my lips outside of this room."

Arya paused until everybody nodded in agreement. Orrin looked a little worried as did Orik, Garzhvog, however, looked impatient.

After she was satisfied that everyone would remain discreet, Arya launched into a narrative of what the past week had wrought. She spoke of the infiltration of Empire controlled cities first. Eragon could tell that no one was interested in this. They wanted to hear the cause for the secrecy imposed on them.

Apparently Arya also noticed for she sighed, glanced at Nasuada, then said, "Nasuada is pregnant." She let the revelation stand.

Eragon took a quick sweep of the room, despite being mildly frightened of what he would find. To his surprise nobody had much of an expression, whether out of shock or not he wasn't sure.

Arya spoke again. "Nasuada is pregnant and must resign from her post as leader of the Varden. We-"

"Who is the Father?" Orrin interrupted. Eragon noticed he directed the question to Arya not Nasuada.

Faint lines drew across Arya's brow. "That, we will keep private."

Orrin's eyebrows rose. "Why? If she is able to be pregnant, surely she won't mind letting us know who is fathering the child."

"It is not relevant." Arya looked down at Nasuada who shook her head, eyes locked on the her hands in front of her.

Orrin began to say something else but Arya overrode him. "Your reaction is understandable, Sire, just please let us first deal with the situation objectively for the time being."

His mouth opened a little, then he sighed and sat back with a slight dip of his head.

Arya continued. "We already have an idea of who would be fit to lead in place of Nasuada, but we cannot make this decision without the blessings of everyone here."

Once again Orrin's voice resonated around the room. "Sorry, who has decided?"

Arya frowned. "Eragon and I. Nasuada also believes he is an appropriate replacement."

"How long have you known?"

Eragon now answered. "Why does it matter?"

Orrin shrugged sarcastically. "I don't know! It's just as King I would expect to be told things like this, but apparently not."

Arya said, "We didn't tell you sooner because it was initially a personal matter, not a political one."

"As was choosing Jormundur as successor?" Orrin asked.

Arya hesitated.

It was then that Orik spoke. "I too could have been informed earlier, Orrin. However I must take into account the delicacy and, indeed, intimacy of the situation. We all know each other here, and I, for one, am confident that none of us harbor malcontent for one another. How we proceed is in question... not how things have been done. A stagnant rock is harmless."

With that the tension seemed to ease, as did Orrin's demeanor.

"Were that speech a word less impressive I might not be satisfied. As it were I am content... and willing to move forward." The Surdan King crossed his arms and settled further into his chair, so far in fact that he almost slouched.

Arya nodded to Jormundur who stood. "Arya and Eragon have asked me to bear the burden of leader. I am willing to take it upon my shoulders. That is, if you will have me." He sat.

Orik stood. "Jormundur. I have known you for many years, and though you will never quite be knurlan, despite how much you drink," Orik laughed nervously, "you have may whole stone-hearted blessing." Orik sat down again and let out a sigh.

When they came to Garzhvog the ram lifted his head, exposing his throat. "I am honored that my presence was permitted today. I know my race is the most hated among us, and least trusted, but it warms my heart to know that there is a hope for peace among us." He then turned to Jormundur. "A have come to know you as a fine general. I believe you will make a fine lead ram." The urgal rose his hands to his horns.

Nar Garzhvog's words seemed to lighten the mood somewhat.

Then Orrin turned on Nasuada. "Have you any to add?"

Once again Eragon pitied Nasuada. As all watched her, he couldn't imagine the shame and embarrassment wracking her body and soul.

Eragon tried to save her from replying, but she laid a soft hand on his arm.

"I've got nothing to say. Nothing that you would hear, that is. All I can do is offer an apology for those who would take it. I have failed. Failed my Father, my peers, and my Country. I can only hope that the effort which I have put in will be enough for Jormundur to make use of it." Tears began to fall from her eyes.

Eragon's pity was mirrored in the eyes of everyone in the room. Even Orrin's face softened as he looked upon the broken leader.

The group agreed to recess and replenish there stamina for a few minutes. Eragon approached Arya as they left the room.

"May I have a quick word?"

The elf nodded and gestured a empty corner of the courtyard.

Eragon took a quick assessment of her delicately formed face before asking, "How did you know Katrina was pregnant?"

Arya answered, "Angela told me..."

Eragon did not question how the curly haired witch new; as she knew most. Instead he asked, "How, though, did you know of their predicament? And why did you tell them I requested that favor of the elves?"

Arya pursed her lips. "Are you unhappy with my decision?"

"No! Not at all. I just wandered what charity you thought you owed me."

Arya nodded vaguely, she glanced at the floor. "It was clear something had come between you and Roran. I knew the girl was pregnant, so I put two and two together." She rubbed her elbow, seemingly reluctant. "You need to keep your friends close, Eragon. It would do no good to have you feuding with allies when our enemies are many."

She hesitated, then stepped closer. "Charity? Are we not friends, Shur'tugal? Despite what you may think, keeping you alive and healthy is more than a professional matter."

With that she turned and left him gaping.

It could have meant nothing more than a confirmation of their friendship, but for Eragon it felt like an opportunity for much more. His elation quickly dissolved, however, as he remembered he had worked himself up like this before, only to be rejected.

Saphira padded up to his side.

_I understand you and Arya had a nice chat while in the Empire. When returning from Helgrind?_

_Yes._

_It did her good, she is grateful._

Eragon gazed emptily at a pot of soil out of which grew a single long vine. _I'm glad I could help. _A touch of resentment bit Eragon when he remembered what Arya had told him of her previous companion, Faolin.

_Eragon, you disrespect her that you would envy the dead. Savor what feelings she _does _have for you. Don't regret what she doesn't feel for you._

He shook himself from his reverie. _You're correct, as usual. _His gaze drifted upward and towards the east. _We should travel the vast desert and search for the Rock of Kuthian._

Within the material that Joed had given Eragon, he had indeed learned more. Though he had to link many half stories together, he was able to discern the following information; The Quoztacs took their dead, in some ritualistic manner, to a great sandstone monolith that stood isolated by miles of flats sands. The said monolith was meant to house the dead souls and harbor them until they were ready to enter the next plane. It was all very unclear and how much could be taken seriously, Eragon didn't know. He couldn't ignore the fact that Solembum's first words proved to not be an empty hope, however.

Saphira said. _You realize, don't you, that once Jormundur has assumed Nasuada's position, our ties will be severed. You will no longer have to dedicate your loyalty to the Varden._

Eragon hadn't thought of that. _You're right! Although it hasn't really caused us problems. It will be nice to be completely untethered. Unless Jormundur expects my same oath._

Saphira laid her massive head next to Eragon. _I doubt it. The council are not an issue anymore; there would be no need. Also, while he is a good leader in his own right, he lacks Nasuada's forceful personality. I doubt he would have the spine to ask you for it._

_I hope he does. Have the spine I mean. If not, he may prove to be less than adequate. _

Saphira snorted, loosing a whirling torrent of dust into the air.

_You should tell the others of our wish to find the Rock of Kuthian._

_I may bring it up. There are so many aspects of this war we've yet to address._

Eragon noticed that most had returned inside. He hugged Saphira then headed through the great wooden doorway.


	5. Council pt 2

**Again thank you reviewers! Please feel free to give feedback! Are my chapters to short/long, boring/too action packed (doubt it) ? ???**

**You can't hurt my feelings. Because I don't have any... except for maybe melancholy...  
**

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"We must keep Nasuada's pregnancy private. The people cannot know."

Eragon rubbed his weary eyes and watched as the others debated the best means of telling the people of the Varden that Nasuada would resign. He could think of nothing that hadn't already been proposed, and believed Orrin was correct in the sentiment that her pregnancy should not be made public. The people, so far, loved Nasuada, as long as that remained so, they would accept the change.

"She could become ill," Orik said, "fake a sickness. Perhaps she's been poisoned by an agent of the Empire. A similar tact was used when Halfork the Tripe was caught thieving from the Quan, before the fall. It is an unpleasant option I know, but, if thought out, could inspire the necessary sympathy." He shrugged.

Everyone fell silent before Arya said, "An unpleasant and risky option. If the people were to ever find out her illness was farced they would feel betrayed and lack trust. However it is an option."

Orrin spoke, "Betrayal will be felt no matter what path we take, if it was to be discovered. I can think of no reason why that should happen. Come! Let us try this avenue and hope it leads us to the meadow we all deserve to bask in. For we will be the driving force from behind hidden doors. The unseen divine! Unsung heroes. Yes, I'm feeling good about this."

Orik chuckled, "Easy Orrin! You are talking like a fledgling with his first weapon."

Orrin's response was equally merry, "Ah, you can hide your feelings, Dwarf, but you can not deny the hope kindling in your heart."

Eragon couldn't quite fathom where this mood had come from, but he glanced around and found that it was a potent contagion. Arya and Nasuada, despite themselves, too had faint grins on their faces. Even Garzhvog's jaws were a cracked open in the slightest.

Eragon felt he was the only one who couldn't share the enthusiasm. Jormundur, still smiling, noticed Eragon's unimpressed demeanor. "Is something wrong?" He asked.

_Am I the only sane one here right now. _He thought. "Not enough words in the world to answer that question, Jormundur."

When Jormundur frowned, Eragon asked, "Oughtn't we continue?"

Everyone become a little more sober at Eragon's impatience.

Orrin narrowed his eyes at Eragon and said, "Yes. Let's."

For the next hour or so, after much backtracking, head aching, and general stressing, the group managed to formulate a rough plan of how the usurping would occur. Withing the next two days Nasuada would complain to one of her guards of discomfort- fever, nausea, headache- and request the presence of a healer. The healer would be unable to detect the catalyst of her ailment, and so call for aid. Angela, who by then will have been informed by Arya or Nasuada of the conspiracy, will come to treat Nasuada. She will declare Nasuada as 'untreatable'. A public announcement will be made that Nasuada was poisoned by an agent of the Black Hand, and that until fit, Jormundur will take her place a leader of the Varden. People will show him the same loyalty and obey him as steadfast as Nasuada. They will maintain that it is only a temporary adjustment, and that Nasuada will be back.

Nasuada will be kept indoors, within her room only leaving when needs be, and then with certain make-ups that will give the illusion she is not healthy. If all goes according to plan the people will come to respect Jormundur as much as they did Nasuada and the remaining questions of her absence will be forgotten.

Jormundur spoke, "The difficult thing now is how we proceed with regard to the Empire. It will not be easy to deal with problems both in, and out, of the Varden."

"We've done so the whole time," replied Eragon, "We are fortunate to have a group of men so willing to fight behind us. We cannot dwell, for the people themselves will not allow it. _We,_" He gestured around the room, "are not the Varden. They are."

Orik slapped the tabletop, "Aye! The same goes for my people. We've come for war, and it is war we expect to find."

Jormundur held his arms in a shrug, "Be that as it may we still need to prepare for the upcoming battles. Quite right, Eragon, we are not the Varden, but we do lead it. And lead it we must, without the necessary organization the Empire will rebuff us like water on rocks."

Throughout the entire meeting, as with the previous rendezvous, Jormundur had maintained a slight inferiority complex. It was clear, however, that when it came to the subject of military and tactical warfare, he felt far more comfortable. His intelligence and acuteness was admirable.

Several maps of Belatona lay before Jormundur. He believed the city's proximity to the lake was an advantage to the Varden. Canals often lay beneath city walls, through which water flowed in and out from the lake. The canals were a potential weak spot and, exploited properly, could grant the Varden easy access.

As he and the others conferred about the more intricate details, Eragon found himself in a day dream. He saw gold all around him, and a voice. He heard the voice from his dream once again. He couldn't understand what it said, only that it was soothing. So soothing.

A grunt sounded beside him. Garzhvog was crouched next to him, "Are you well, Firesword?"

Eragon shook the weariness from his head, "Aye. Just tired."

Garzhvog grunted again, "As am I... We're creatures of action not words!" A short barked laughter came from his throat before he stood and returned to his previous spot.

Eragon saw everyone remained crowded over the maps on the table. He grinned. Everyday he began to like Garzhvog more and more. In turn he empathized with the Urgals a little more. He still couldn't forgive them for what he'd seen, but he would admit that they commit no worse atrocities than man is capable of. How could they when Galbatorix himself, was a man.

He then thought of the voice in his dreams. It had entered his sleep many a nights. When he had asked Saphira what she thought, she'd just said he was under stress and was bound to have odd thoughts going through his mind. Eragon wasn't so convinced it was just random images in his mind, but could prove nothing to the contrary.

"Eragon..."

"Eragon!"

"ERAGON!"

Eragon snapped his head up. He cheeks turned a little warm at not having been paying attention.

"We need you to stay back and out of the battle until you are needed," said Jormundur, "You're safety, as I'm sure you've heard many times, is the most important thing. We don't want you to be killed or injured because of entering the fray prematurely."

Eragon nodded.

Two more agonizing hours were spent slaving over battle plans. Very little did Eragon actually pay attention to. He just sat drifting in and out of reality. Moments of intense vertigo tended to take him when he verged on falling asleep. It was a powerful rush of adrenaline which sent his mind reeling. He didn't mind the sensation but was a little worried about what was causing it.

With every passing day his, and Saphira's, anxiety increased. Eventually they would meet Galbatorix. Eventually either the King, or Eragon would die. That knowledge filled Eragon with a dread so powerful it reduced him to convulsions. His arms developed nervous twitches, his eyelids began to droop. He dreaded to think what would have become of him if not for the dragon's transformation.

Jormundur began to role up the maps; the planning was finished. Eragon felt a little guilty for not getting involved but couldn't muster the will to do so.

Arya concluded the meeting, "If everyone here remembers to keep a tight jaw and stay focused, this may yet work. We will meet again after Angela 'treats' Nasuada."

With that they began filing out of the room. Jormundur approached Eragon, his face stern. "You would do well to learn the art of War, Eragon. As rider it will surely be a duty of yours to teach such things?"

Eragon bit back a rude remark. It took a second for him to get his temper under control before saying, "You're right. I apologize. I will pay more attention next time."

Orik appeared at Eragon's side, "Straighten your undergarments, Jormundur, if that is what bothers you. Otherwise try to go a little easier on the person to whom you owe your life." Orik grinned cheekily.

Jormundur sighed, then shrugged and walked off. Immense gratitude for Orik's friendship washed over Eragon.

The dwarf knelt and wiped a smear of dirt from his boot. "Don't mind what he said. You hardly have the time to learn anything now. Besides, if this war is won you have infinite time, eh?"

Eragon laughed. "Yes, I suppose so. I'd never really thought about it."

The dwarf gestured forward. They began to walk. "Well start thinking about it. It gives you something more to fight for. Who will live to challenge you?"

Eragon shrugged. The two turned a corner which opened into a great cemetery. Grave stones of all different shapes and sizes lay broken and tattered. It seemed only one had remained unharmed. A statue of a maiden who knelt on a moss covered ground. Around her forehead lay a band of flowers. As they got closer Eragon identified the material as marble; glossy, smooth, and almost solid white save for a few grey spots.

The woman had a kind face. It looked like someone familiar, the same sweet, tired eyes. A pang of emotion hit Eragon. The statue reminded him of his Mother. He looked at the script.

_In remembrance of fair Selena_

_Strong in life_

_Stronger in death_

_She lies elsewhere_

A chill crept over Eragon. His face tightened. Orik asked, "What is it?"

"My... my Mother." Then Eragon fell to his knees and wept. He wept for his Mother, for Brom, and for their doomed love. He cried and cried ignoring Orik's hand on his shoulder.

He felt Saphira draw nearer. _Eragon?_

_Why is this here? How did Brom manage to put this here?_

She tried to sooth him with calm thoughts. To no avail. _I know not Eragon. Perhaps right after your Mother lost her life._

Eragon remained bent over, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't fathom the reason for finding his Mother's memorial. Why it stood alone and proud amongst broken peers. He cried that her life had been one in the shadow of fear that Morzan had cast. That she'd birthed one who would follow in his father's footsteps. He felt himself going mad.

Then the voice entered his mind. The soothing voice. It told him that his Mother was now happy. Weeping only from joy, not sadness. Slowly Eragon regained his composure.

Orik's hand remained firmly on his shoulder. "Come Eragon. Let us drink to your Mother. We will drink and drink until your tears are of ale and merriment. Come."

He took Eragon's arm and lifted him to his feet. Eragon's feet dragged as he walked, he hardly noticed Saphira and Orik on either side of him.

That night the three of them did drink until they could take no more. They found the loudest taverns with the rowdiest crowd. Dancing and singing filled Eragon's head until all awareness faded. Saphira shot streams of flame into the air, and yelped along with the banter and choruses.

Eventually, after regurgitating a lot of the beverage he had consumed, Eragon sought somewhere quiet to sit. He found a stone bench beneath a balcony which was overgrown with plants of various types.

He laid on the bench and looked up and out at the stars. The noise of Saphira's melody still audible in the background. He took a quick swig of Angela's tonic, then laughed to himself.

"So, that is coming in useful is it?'

Eragon snapped upright. Angela was padding towards him. "May I sit?" she asked.

Eragon nodded.

"Oh thank you." She sat beside him and gestured for the flask. She took a big gulp before giving it back. "Ahh."

"Arya told me it is a drug." Eragon said, his eyebrows arched.

"Aye, that it is. But so is alcohol really. You didn't go drinking five bottles in a row did you?"

Eragon shook his head.

She nodded, "You've got some sense then."

A silence fell between them. Finally Eragon asked, "How is Elva?"

"Ecstatic."

When she failed to elaborate unprompted Eragon sighed, "Alright... How has Elva been behaving? I'm not easy with what she last said to me." He cringed remembering how Elva had reacted once she realized she was in control of her power.

Angela gave a humorless laugh. "No. I bet not! She has taken to trivial pranks. Scaring people into thieving sweets, or money. Things like that. Nothing too serious... yet."

She added the last with a little grin.

Eragon nodded, relieved, and lay his head back. His eyes began to close.

"Come. Let's get you back to your room. We can't have our only rider dieing from a lack of sleep."

Angela shouldered his weight all the way back to his room at which point she left.

He tumbled into bed, tears once again began to seep from his closed eyes.


	6. Explanation

Eragon stood before his Mother's statue with flowers in his hand.

The morning was crisp, the breeze had a sharp chill to it indicating the first winds of fall. With the breeze came the confetti of multi colored leaves, fallen from the trees who turned cycles with the seasons.

He shed not a tear as he read, reread, and read again the words upon the stone. Perhaps it was the cool air, perhaps he was just overwhelmed, what ever it was it caused him to be numb to the pain. He felt acceptance. Not a relieving acceptance, but one of despair. If life could be so cruel, was it worth fighting for?

_'Tis not our decision to make, Eragon. _Saphira's mind touched his. _Think of it purely as duty if you will. Once your duty is over you are free to give up life... but not before._

Eragon hardly listened, yet he didn't need to. Her words flowed directly to his consciousness. He blinked, his eyes dry. Then he laid the flowers on the lip of the memorial. He said a few words of blessing in the ancient language then left without looking back.

The city was near empty. The Varden were leaving. Moving on to Belatona. Yesterday Nasuada had fallen 'ill', as planned. Angela would soon be called to help the healers, and the plan would proceed. Meanwhile the Varden would be marching towards the next siege.

Roran had returned the previous day with a group of men on horses. The men had been drafted from Belatona. Apparently they'd been easy to recruit as most of their families had been killed or abused by the Empire. As such, their passion lay in the downfall of Galbatorix. These men were quick to join the Varden and pledge their loyalty, but Eragon felt it would be rare to get such enthusiastic mercanaries. That very same day Roran once again set out on a new mission.

Every now and then Eragon would check in on Katrina. She did not do well in Roran's absence as memories of Helgrind still festered in her mind. Eragon would bring her food and what supplies she needed as well as introducing her to men and woman he thought she would appreciate meeting. He often found Angela visiting her which he felt gratitude for.

Both Saphira and Eragon were eager for the awaiting battle. Though they were forbidden to involve themselves early on in the fight, it was inevitable that they would be needed at some point, and Eragon longed to stretch and challenge himself again. He still felt the familiar touch of nerves as he always did before battle, but it was very little compared with the excitement he felt.

His eyes were heavy lidded as the city faded into the background. He scanned the entourage and found that the Urgals and Dwarves mingled with each other. He wondered if it was a sign of good things to come; that two such natural enemies could come to forget their differences. The confluence was an odd sight to see, the great horned beasts side by side with the diminutive, hairy, mountainfolk.

Nasuada was being taken in a luxurious carriage. It's red coverings looked like a drop of blood in the brown and beige of everything behind. Eragon was glad that the worst of summer was over. A journey like this, a few months ago, would have been torture. Now it was almost enjoyable.

As they walked Blodhgarm and his fellow guards sidled up to Eragon and Saphira. The wolf-like elf bowed and said, "We must resume our duties now Shadeslayer. We once again enter the dangerous world of our enemies."

Eragon bowed in response. "I appreciate it. Do what you must."

The elves dropped to a respectful distance behind, granting Eragon and Saphira some privacy.

That night the Varden set up camp in a shallow depression which stretched for miles in all directions. Great bonfires roared here and there roasting various meats which gave off the aroma of spice and herbs. Men sat back on their elbows drinking and laughing. Children giggled and jumped around, euphoric in the strange environment. Eragon sat beneath Saphira's wing, playing with an odd rock he'd found on the ground. It was a dark purple in the shape of a pyramid. Along the outward crest of each side it glinted a dull green. Together they sat in silence watching the goings-ons with a detached interest.

A slim figure, silhouetted against an adjacent flame, entered his view. It was Arya. She gestured a quick greeting before seating herself next to him. She didn't say anything for a while. Eventually, right before Eragon was about to speak, she said, "The orbit of this planet around the sun causes the seasons."

Eragon frowned, confused.

Arya continued. "The elf Naedrae, a great philosopher, figured it out. Every thing works in cycles. Until factors change circumstances will repeat, the same mistakes will be made."

Eragon asked, "What do you speak of?"

Arya turned her head away. Her brilliantly dark hair shimmered in the orange firelight. "Many things... We must be vigilant. The closer we come to Uru'baen, the more desperate the Empire will become. They will resort to desperate tactics... as they've done already."

Eragon faced her. "You believe they may try to create more Shades?"

Arya nodded, still facing away from Eragon. "Why not? The last very nearly killed me. It would have done if not for you." She finally looked at him. She studied him then smiled. "It seems for that I am, once again, in your debt."

Eragon's faced burned. "That's silly..." He mumble a few more unintelligible words.

Arya, still smiling, surveyed the fire which danced and flickered before them. "In any case it is a very possible reality which we must face. Keep your guards near you at all times."

Eragon sat up straighter. "I know."

"And don't take any unnecessary risks."

"How do you mean?"

Arya's smile faltered. "You have a tendancy- a noble one, I do not doubt- to risk yourself for little in return."

Eragon couldn't tell what she was driving at. "You are referring to my staying in Helgrind... Sloan?"

Arya once again turned to him, her face was a little more stern. "Aye, and your reluctance to disguise our encounter with the soldiers in the Empire."

Eragon swallowed. "Why are you telling me this?"

Arya replied, "I tell you this because were your enemies to learn of such an attribute to your character you would be susceptible to all kinds of manipulation, down to the most trivial of circumstances."

"And?"

"I would just remind you to, in that respect, keep your guard up."

Eragon turned away feeling indignant. So many people had given him the same speech. "I thank you." He let the coldness in the statement show.

He felt Arya's eyes bore into the side of his face.

She said, "You believe it isn't a matter? How could you not when it has already led you into a very compromising situation?"

"A situation that I dealt with in a way deemed appropriate by the King of Surda and Leader of the Varden." Eragon countered.

He heard a soft sigh escape Arya's lips. "I'm just trying to eliminate certain dangers, Eragon. I would not have you harmed by means of something I could have prevented."

Saphira said in private to Eragon. _She means well, Eragon. _

_I know, but I'm tired of being treated as a child._

_I understand, just be wary of your tongue._

To Arya, Eragon said, "I really do appreciate it, Arya, but you must understand I am aware of these dangers. And while I will do all to prevent them being a weakness, I won't have them eliminated. It is in my nature to act so, and it is my nature which drives me to keep fighting. It is a legacy that I believe Brom left me. I won't subdue it."

She replied with the expression of comprehension, "You won't, because that would eliminate what makes you different from Galbatorix."

Eragon nodded. "I would lose my cause."

A quiet peace permeated the proximity, during which Eragon wondered what Arya was thinking. As usual her face betrayed not a thought, and hardly an emotion. After a few minutes Eragon settled back against Saphira and watched the night sky. The bright stars twinkled, some brighter than others. Some wavered with the full spectrum of the rainbow before dying out all together. What could the battle of Alagaesia mean when space was so vast? How minute were their achievements when all who would remember them could be slain by a rogue meteorite from the ether or some other apocalyptic event?

Eragon's eyelids grew heavier, heavier. He was vaguely aware of Arya by his side as his vision faded to absolute darkness.


	7. Belatona

Eragon stood grimly side by side with Saphira. The two stood on a small steep hill about a half league from Belatona. The siege had started.

In the distance he could see the city's walls. Though smaller than Feinster's they were better guarded. The gate was heavier, thicker. A shell of vicious spikes and thorny outcroppings had been placed to encase the dank brick walls. Upon the walls stood hundreds, perhaps thousands, of troops armed with bows. They shot flaming darts into the Varden below. Each arrow, however, was capable of no harm as the Varden's troops had gathered into a tight group and shielded themselves as one great unit.

It was a distraction, this frontal attack. Little did the Empire know, a group of spellcasters and elite warriors were beneath Leona lake. They would break through the thin barring of the canal and seek to unlock the city's defenses. Once inside a flare would be shot into the air indicating their success, and drawing the city's troops away from the main gates.

Only once Jormundur had given the order would Eragon and Saphira be allowed to enter the battle, though, as Saphira reminded him, Eragon no longer strictly owed his obedience.

Watching the battle was not easy. With every death, on either side, Eragon's heart twanged with pain and regret. He worried so for Arya who was part of the underwater break-in. He worried for Orik, and even Garzhvog.

The night churned with screams and moans. The surrounding valley seemed to stand on ceremony for the great sorrow that engulfed the city. Sweeping winds twisted and morphed the anguished cries into a noise inhuman. A light drizzle had begun to fall worsening the feeling of dread and oppression of those who waited for their turn.

Both Rider and Dragon stood in total silence, each burning with a different emotion. While Eragon was in mild awe of the horror before him, Saphira burned with a lust for blood. Her nostrils expanded allowing the winds to bring her the fuel that would fire her into a fierce frenzy; the scent of blood. Eragon could tell it took her great restraint to simply remain still.

He rested a hand on her side in attempt to soothe her. She did not heed his action, only stared with glistening eyes.

Blodhgarm stood with his peers below Eragon. The twelve elves stood straight backed, heads perked, ready for any sign of immediate danger.

Eragon noticed catapults being constructed on the walls. If not for his elven senses he would not have been able to see it from such a distance. But see it he did. And once these engines were assembled they began wreaking havoc below. Massive stones and pots of oil were being flung below, killing scores of men at a time. The Varden who were capable of stopping arrows could do nothing to defend themselves from being scorched or crushed.

_Saphira..._

_I know,_ she said, _but we agreed to remain put._

_For how long? Must we watch them die needlessly._

She remained silent for a moment before asking, _What about Blodhgarm?_

Eragon sighed and glanced at the elf. _This is exactly what Arya warned me about last night._

Saphira snorted and swung her head around to eye Eragon. _This is your decision, Eragon. Let no one else sway you. I chose you because of your heart, what does it tell you?_

Eragon thought for a second. _Let's go... and quickly._

Eragon decided to tell Blodhgarm. "Saphira and I leave to dismantle the Engines!" He yelled.

Blodhgarm turned and looked up through the steady worsening rain. "No! I must insist Shadeslayer, Saphira, that you do not!"

Eragon mounted Saphira. "We appreciate your concern."

Blodhgarm spoke again but what he said was lost in the roar of the storm as Saphira took off through the tremulous night towards the city.

Belatona was relatively bare. Behind it's walls lay a sprawling of low shack-like houses. Very few stood over two stories, and those that did stood out like giants amongst dwarves. The city was roughly pentagonal in shape and larger than Eragon had expected. The Leona Lake shimmered behind with choppy waters. The surface was pocked with rain drops.

As they approached the city most of the archers abandoned the walls. The ones who didn't, they remained purely because they were too traumatized by fear to move. Eragon saw many of the Varden gaze up at them, forgetting to protect themselves. _What a sight we must be, _Eragon thought.

Without hesitation Saphira swooped down upon the first catapult. It was clear that most of the siege engines had been put together hastily. Despite Belatona being a city of carpenters and engineers, the handiwork was relatively weak at the joints.

With her great hind legs, Saphira crashed into the machine and dragged it off the wall. It fell below with a great crash, leveling the unfortunate soldiers who stood below. Dozens of arrows crashed off of Eragon's wards. While Saphira took out three more catapults, he felt out and around with his mind for a sign of any magician who could threaten him. To his surprise, he found none who posed a danger.

Then a great pressure grew on his mind. He would have panicked had he not recognized the antagonist as Angela. _Eragon! Return at once! Orders from Jormundur._

_I can't watch while these machines slaughter my friends!_

_A noble sentiment, one that will be totally in vain if you get killed. Back away now, you've done enough._

_Alright..._

He told Saphira to head back away from the city. She did so with out question. She flew hundreds of yards until they spotted Jormundur on his steed. Orrin sat mounted next to him. When they spotted Saphira their expressions were less than impressed.

Saphira landed in a small clearing, created when the Varden's soldier scurried away. Eragon dismounted and dropped before the two leaders.

Orrin wasted no time. "What the blazes do you think you are doing?" He shouted. "You were told to remain where you were."

Before answering Eragon reached out to contact Blodhgarm. _Come join us..._ He showed the elf where they were.

Then he replied to Orrin, "Your Majesty, we had to do something. Why wait and watch if we could fix it?"

Jormundur urged his horse forward a few steps. "I'll tell you why." He said in a low, almost whisper, "I must know you will follow my orders without question. I understand that technically you don't owe me your allegiance, but it will do the Varden no good to have you running amok, acting on your whims."

Eragon clenched his fists. "So that was the point. Just to see if I would follow your orders? You let people die. Still are!" He turned to see his elvish guards enter the clearing. Still talking to Jormundur and Orrin he added, "Once I see the flare go up I won't hesitate in joining the battle. Find another way of testing my obedience, one that doesn't require people to get hurt."

Jormundur and Orrin remained silent. Eragon turned to Blodhgarm. "Be ready to enter the city at the signal."

The elf's yellow eyes narrowed, a sharp tooth was visible beneath his feral lips. "Shadeslayer, if you insist on leaving us at every turn we cannot do our duty properly and keep you safe. Did you not apologize to us for that exact thing after the last battle?"

Eragon sighed. "I know, and I apologize again. The problem is we lack mobility if you remain with us." The elf looked dissatisfied so Eragon added, "Once in the city I promise we will not leave your side. It is in the tight corners of street fighting that we will be most vulnerable."

Blodhgarm hesitated, then dipped his head in a slight bow, and back away to converse with the others. Eragon sighed then looked, again, at Belatona, noting how much Saphira's intervention helped.

He waited on edge watching for any sight of the light. With each minute he grew more anxious. Men were dying left and right, and all he could think about was Arya's safety. Seconds passed to minutes, minutes to hours, with no sign of success. No one could contact any of the spellcasters for the distance. Eventually Eragon could watch no more.

After discussing it with Saphira, he turned to his guards. "Follow us, if you will. We make for the lake. And fast."

He set off along the ground with Saphira. Instead of heading towards the city he head at an angle away so that they could loop around without being seen. When they walked through the Dwarven section of the army Orik hailed them.

"Where go you!" He shouted over the wind.

"To see what takes Arya so long! We can't stop." They didn't either. With a pace that would have been a sprint for an ordinary man, they made their way out of the army. Pulling away from the crowd they began to curve with the city towards the lake. His elvish guards followed close behind.

Eventually they approached the part of the lake near where the river converged. He looked around but could find no sign of Arya, or anyone. _They must be underwater._

_Perhaps. _Saphira padded around a bit before adding, _I can't go with you. I'm to big to fit in the canal._

Eragon nodded, then gestured to Blodhgarm, who sidled over. "Shadeslayer?"

"We enter the lake. Saphira cannot follow."

With that Blodhgarm cast the spell necessary to travel underwater. As they waded through the choppy waters, Eragon noticed Blodhgarm's magic shaping the water into that of a bubble that surrounded them. They remained along the soft lake floor instead of floating like normal.

To Eragon's horror the bed was covered in bones. At least some of them were human, what the others were he couldn't even guess. Some were only partially decomposed and when trodden on they would grip to his legs as if life still animated them.

Blodhgarm held aloft a strange werelight, as did the five other elves. The other six of his guards had remained with Saphira, much to her annoyance. The soft light emitted from their palms surrounded them in a dark green glow. The water rippled and wavered like a candle around them.

It took a good hour until a slight, almost unnoticeable ascension began. It became harder to keep their footing as the slope grew steeper and steeper. It was then that the green of the water grew brighter in one small area in front of them. The wall of water before them turned brighter and more translucent until it dissipated all together. It was replaced by a group of people who sat in a round metal tunnel, ten feet high and wide. Only one stood, in front of a large gate which forbid any passing.

Eragon at first didn't recognize anyone until the person who stood turned. It was Arya, but she looked more tired than he'd ever seen her. He started, rushing forward to her.

"Arya! What has happened?"

She took in who was with him before saying, "They must have known we would try to exploit this weakness. A ward was placed... you shouldn't have come." Eragon expected her to be surprised at his appearance, but she seemed to take it in stride.

Eragon looked at the others who appeared to be as weary as she. "Why? What ward was placed?"

She gestured for him to sit. He did so. "One that would not allow us to leave the way we came. You can try."

Eragon stood and made to step out of the tunnel into the water only to be blocked by an invisible barrier. He tried again to no avail. Then he returned and sat down.

Arya spoke again. "As you can see it is impossible to leave. The only way out is through the gate, and not ten minutes ago we grappled with three of Galbatorix's magicians, before they fled. We must find a way to break the barrier and enter the city... without unduly tiring ourselves."

Eragon frowned. "Why is that?"

Arya smiled ironically. "There is a score of powerful magicians waiting on that side."

Blodhgarm gestured around, "But we are here now, surely we can best them."

"Perhaps, but, as I say, we must first break through the gate, which is heavily guarded by wards unknown. It could exhaust most of our energy."

A short, well built man across from them laughed. "But we've no choice do we? Let us break through and kill as many as we can."

Another, taller, man told him to shut up.

Together they all sat in silence before Eragon stood and said, "We are wasting time, and lives. We must try. I can call Saphira."

Arya hesitated, "Do so. Make sure she doesn't engage them until we are out of the tunnel."

"Right."

He reached out with his mind and told her what to do.

_I will be there. _She said with concern thickening her voice.

Eragon nodded to Arya who rose to his side. Together, with the help of the other elves, they began to press upon the wards on the bars. Slowly and cautiously at first, but with each second they grew bolder and more confident, pushing harder and harder. Finally the gate gave way, Eragon felt his breath release as the metal clattered to a fall in front of him. He smiled- it hadn't been too difficult.

He was about to step past into the other side of the tunnel when a commotion behind halted him. He turned and found one of the elves had fallen. Blodhgarm already knelt by her side, as did Arya and another. They uttered frantic words in the ancient language. The human warriors watched in shocked awe.

The unconscious elf spasmed and writhed on the floor, despite Arya and Blodhgarm's efforts to still her. Her eyes turned a bright shade of red and white foam began frothing from her mouth. Then she grew still. One of his guards began to weep, until finally Blodgharm stood. "Elgwed has passed into the abyss." A feral snarl laid bare his razor sharp teeth.

Eragon stood silent as blessings were pledged onto the body. After a few minutes Arya whispered into Eragon's ear, "This is why you must be more careful. That could have been you."

She then took their weeping companion by the arm and pulled her into a gentle embrace. She turned to the human men and said, "Guard her body with your lives. Remain here until one of us returns."

Eragon caught her eye and gestured to the other end of the tunnel. Arya nodded and said, "Come. We leave to avenge Elgwed."

Eragon turned and walked past the fallen barrier. Despite his confidence to the contrary he pent up his breath as he passed the gateway. He was unsure if any curse lingered. However his progress was unfettered.

The underground tunnel ran a longer distance than Eragon expected. It turned this way and that, and every now and then they had to climb a small set of ladders to access the next part. The smell grew more offensive the further they went, and the air began to cool. Eragon slowed when he heard a soft patter of rain ahead. He felt Arya close behind.

She grasped his hand and said, "Let some one else go first."

Eragon knew she wouldn't accept anything different, so he nodded in agreement.

Blodhgarm said, "And I insist that it is not you, Princess. I will go." Without waiting for a reply he strode forward like a great horror of the night. His fur shimmered in the pale light.

Only a few paces forward the tunnel curved upwards at a 45 degree angle. It had harsh steps hammered into its surface. At the far end the night's sky was visible; it cracked and flashed with lightning.

Blodhgarm dropped down on all fours and began the swift incline to the top. Eragon and Arya followed close behind with the four other elves coming last. At the top the bloodwolf stopped and sniffed the air. He slowly poked his head out of the tunnel and rolled his eyes. It occurred to Eragon how animal and savage the elf actually was. Blodhgarm then gestured the way was free.

One by one they broke into the cold, wet air. Eragon took a deep breath and couldn't help but let his lips curl up into a reluctant smile of satisfaction. He then took notice of his surroundings.

They were gathered in the middle of what looked like a park. Little cobbled paths ran off in different directions. Lining these paths were trees and luscious lawns of wild grass. The tunnel they'd just traversed opened into a little gated pond. In the pond grew many different flowers and plants. A well sat in the very center of the pond from where, Eragon guessed, most of the city's drinking water came from. The scene would have been pretty in different circumstances.

Eragon glanced at a small wooden sign which stood out of the water, waist height. On it a plaque said, 'Galivard's Pond.' Eragon then looked up and around listening for any sign of the enemy magicians.

The elves began prowling around like predators stalking their prey. It was then that Eragon turned to Arya and asked, "Where are they?"

She faced him and began to answer, "I-" Then her eyes narrowed, she started forward. "Eragon!"

Pain burst like starlight in his eyes. Then all went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it took a while... go easy on this chapter, for some reason it was harder to write. :s**

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_He wandered down lonely path. His feet moved seemingly of their own accord, creating a soft patter as they struck gravel. On either side of the path were ominous trees of enormous size and unfathomable years. The great, leafy monoliths stood guarding boundless plains behind. _

_He walked down the path, numb to the sweeping winds. His vision was fixed on the road ahead. A voice compelled him. It was his compass, his north, when only one direction existed. For unclocked hours he tread the rocky lane. Never slowing, never accelerating. An imperceptible pulse raced through his impotent heart and mind. _

_A disturbance interrupted the monotony of the journey, then. The path stopped, ceased to exist. In it's place was a stone tablet. It towered above him, solemn and proud. Upon it's fine, smooth surface were a series of intricate overlapping lines. They stemmed from a single line at the bottom and twisted, twirled, and spired up until only one stood out of the rest. _

_He attempted to follow the initial line. He traced it upwards, squinting to keep his eyes firm on the target. He tried and tried again, only to discover that it was impossible to discern where it lay in the tangled mess of alternative routes._

_The voice spoke again. 'Ah,' it said, 'so we come to the crux. You feel the pain like no one else because you are the central nerve. They flow from you as creeks seep pathetically away from the mother river.'_

_He hearkened to the words, they touched his very soul. It continued, 'Whether fate exists is an empty concept. Perhaps your pain is for naught. You can only take one path, are you sure of which path it is?'_

_He thought about the question, eyes shifting over the inextricable mess on the stone before him. 'Before the day is over you will see it. They cannot know, the choice will be left to you. You are indeed unique, a power that no one else can share.'_

_The stone began to swirl into a vortex before his eyes. The landscape around him was likewise sucked into the great maelstrom of color. Everything fell to darkness._

Eragon first noticed a slight tingling in his fingers. He attempted to move them, only a twitch could he perform. Despite his eyes remaining closed, he was aware of the movement around him. Vague energies imposed on his space.

An intense horror gripped Eragon. An oppressive force drove him deep into the recesses of his mind. Out of reaction he put his mental barriers up. It didn't stop. Pain stabbed at his heart. Panic engulfed his entire being.

Demons flooded his mind, preventing him from organized thought. It seemed as if every doubt, every fear, every regret he had ever experienced had manifested itself into one great shadow. His memories were clouded, stung with misery.

Images reeled around his head. Saphira being chained and beaten. Her anguished roars made him tremble. He saw Roran and Katrina holding each other in the arms of grim death. Garrow's death and his part in it swelled until he could stand it no more.

Visions of Oromis and Brom being slain over and over. No respite from the agony of his mind's eye. Only tears.

How long he suffered, he could not tell. No sense could be made of anything. Eragon was sure it would stay like this. What ever had happened it would remain, his body and mind racked by nightmares unimaginable.

Then something touched his hand. It sent a jolt through his body, the feeling of your head submerged in ice water. The wave that coursed through his blood changed something in him. He felt as if he were just being born, life was a new and fresh joy. Joy was a bit strong, but for Eragon he clung to this feeling with all his might. For whatever it was, it was his only chance to leave his fear and utter misery behind him. His hand clenched the thing that touched it. His heart began to charge heat from head to toe, warming the cold that had settled in his joints.

His eyelashes flickered, a brief flash of blinding light caused him to recoil. He remained grappled to the thing that held his hand. While this connection remained, he forced his composure to return. His hearing grew, slowly, back to it's natural sharpness. He heard the voices of a man and woman. The man was strong, stern. The woman softer, but equally commanding.

The two spoke but Eragon did not listen. It dawned on him that he now had total control of his mind again. And how relieved it made him! It felt as if he were emerging from a small, dark tunnel into and open, sunny field.

He struggled to regain control of his rogue muscles. He began at the foot, willing movement until he succeeded. He moved up his body- his legs, his hands, his arms, his shoulders- until he reached the head. His eyes opened.

It took several seconds to blink away the blur. He lay on a large, soft bed. The bed was in a big room that looked suited for someone of royalty. Finely worked sculptures and paintings were in abundance. The door was on the far side, below a bouquet of oddly out of place roses.

Roran stood at the foot of the bed. His eyelids sagged with sorrow but the glistening orbs beneath them betrayed other emotions. He looked about to speak, then he just brought a hand to eyes and shook his head.

Eragon then turned to find his hand locked firmly with Arya's. She sat in front of a large window. Her eyes shone brightly and intensely. A half smile twisted the corner of her lips.

Eragon's throat swelled with sudden emotion. He swallowed, tried to speak, then swallowed again. He could utter no words. The odd rush of the situation overwhelmed him. He turned on his side, hand never leaving Arya's. His eyes closed, tears broke free from beneath the lids.

Arya muttered something to Roran, who said something back then left the room. With his free hand, Eragon covered his eyes. He felt a shame, and confusion, in his actions. He couldn't understand what made him feel so. After all, he did not even know the circumstances under which he was brought to be in this place.

Several minutes passed, during which Arya said nothing. She sat in silence, tracing the back of his hand with her thumb. Eragon lay weeping.

Finally someone entered the room. He heard footsteps, then the noise of the window being pushed open. He heard a scraping, grinding sound. Arya tugged gently on his hand.

He looked up and found Saphira's snout pushing eagerly through the window. A soft, frustrated whimper came from her mouth when her head did not fit. Arya stood and pulled him slowly out of the bed, then guided him over to Saphira, steadying his shaky steps. He lay a hand on Saphira's massive snout.

Saphira attempted to rejoin his mind. When he felt her presence, he resisted at first, then he took a deep breath and forced his mind to remain calm and open. Saphira pressed again, less hurriedly than the first time, until he completely yielded and the warmth of her mind washed over him.

_Little one. _She purred.

Eragon felt his eyes growing wet again. _What happened?_

_Do you feel like taking a walk in the sun? _She asked.

Eragon hesitated, he was unsure of how much he could handle. But then he decided that with Saphira by his side, he could manage a gentle stroll outside.

When he consented, he told Roran and Arya.

"You may like to freshen up," said Roran, who then gestured to a room that Eragon hadn't noticed in the far corner.

Only once Eragon entered the room did Arya relinquish his hand. She offered him another smile before leaving him to his privacy. He assumed that he must have been sleeping for a long time- he couldn't fathom any other reason that everyone would be acting so.

He spied a small hand mirror lying next to a full basin of water. He picked it up and looked into it. A gasp left his lips before he could stop it..

His face was almost beyond recognition. He was emaciated, his skin was shallow and off color. Large black rings surrounded his bloodshot eyes. Even his hair had lost it's usual luster. He couldn't stand to look. He put the looking glass back down with shaky hands. _What happened to me, _he thought.

Then he tested the water. He dipped his forefinger into the rippling liquid and swirled it around. The temperature was cool, but not cold. Cupping the water with both hands he proceeded to rinse his face, scrubbing the areas around his eyes, ears and nose. Once satisfied, and a little rejuvenated by the wash, he donned a new shirt and trousers that lay out, he assumed for him.

It took Eragon several minutes to open the main door of the bedroom. There were five different latches, each with a sophisticate series of hooks and levers. After much struggling he finally managed to extricate himself from the room. It led into a well lit hallway directly away. Large, decorated doors lined the walls of the corridor.

Roran and Arya sat on cushioned seats a few yards down the hall. Each staying to their own. They stood when they spotted Eragon.

"Better," Arya asked.

Eragon chuckled lightly, "Better." He began to ask what had happened but Arya cut him off.

"We should be with Saphira. Let us walk under the sun's warmth, through the crisp air."

Roran placed a gentle hand on Eragon's back, ushering him down the corridor. At the end of the hall they entered a stone staircase that spiraled downwards in a lighting more somber than the previous section of the building. Eragon hastened his legs until they reached the bottom.

When they were outside the bright light forced Eragon to cover his eyes. Slowly his vision and sensitivity adjusted and he was able to look around. The building they'd just been in appeared to be some sort manor house. It's design and current condition was far better than the surrounding strucutes. Canopies jutted from the walls twined with ivy vines, thick and vibrant.

The other houses were dull and somewhat decrepit. This was indeed Belatona, as Eragon had suspected. People milled about, most he didn't know, but he did recognize a group of Orrin's cavalrymen. They tended to their steeds, grooming their glistening coats.

One of the men noticed Eragon's interest and hollered, "You don't look too good, Shadeslayer."

Without thinking Eragon replied with indignation, "I've been sick, what's your excuse!"

The soldier face flushed with shock and embarrassment as his companions snickered to each other. Eragon turned away, eager to find Saphira.

"Where is-" He began to ask when a booming report sounded from the far end of the street. Saphira came galloping down the road and skidded to a halt before Eragon.

_I've missed you, _she said.

Eragon laughed and patted her nose. _And I you... You don't know how happy I am to see you. Will you explain what happened?_

Saphira flicked his shoulder with her tongue playfully. _I'll let Arya... for now._

Eragon turned to Arya and Roran. He shrugged suggestively.

They began to walk as Arya recounted the events. "We were ambushed by the magicians ," she said, "they hid amongst the branches, high in the trees, cloaking themselves in a similar fashion as you have done before. Together they unleashed a spell on you that took all but one of their lives in return. The single spell caster who's wyrd it was to live fell unconscious."

"What was the spell?" Eragon asked, desperately trying to distance himself from the memories of his comatose, yet discern what had occurred.

Arya shrugged, "We know not. It left no physical marks upon you, nor any other sign as to it's existence." Arya fell silent before asking, "Why do you not question as to the length of your slumber?"

Eragon thought about it. Why hadn't he asked? He had tried to avoid the topic of his sleep, but then realized with mocking jab of common sense that it was impossible. "Ok," he said, mustering his courage, "How long was I out?"

Arya's eyes grew heavy with an undetectable emotion. "The cold air you feel is being carried by winter's first winds."

Eragon's steps faltered as he calculated the days. The maths dictated that at least two months had passed. He was shocked into a mild stupor.

When Roran noticed Eragon's consternation he nodded, "Aye. A right fright you gave those of us who knew."

"What do you mean by 'those who knew'?" asked Eragon.

Roran glanced around then lowered his voice slightly. "If you were to ask the general people of the Varden, they would claim you have been as fit and active as ever."

Arya added, "The Empire could not learn of your ailment, lest they act on our vulnerability."

Eragon asked, "You did the same thing as when I left for Farthen Dur?" He recalled Blodhgarms spell that cast a specter of Eragon.

Arya nodded.

Several thoughts ran through Eragon's mind. He could feel Saphira's curiosity through their mental link. _What is it?_

_What happened during your sleep? Your inside feels tormented._

Eragon hesitated before answering. _I would not share it with you. You don't deserve it, I also think it would be impossible to relay._

_Ok. I won't press you. I'm just worried for you Little One._

Eragon smiled. _I appreciate it, and I'll be fine._ Whether he spoke to convince Sahpira or himself, he wasn't sure.

Arya and Roran hadn't intruded on the silence. Eragon decided to voice some of his qualms. "But what has actually been happening then? Please, explain a little more. What about the war? What have the elves done? What about Nasuada?"

Roran said, "Calm, Eragon. You've just awoken. You need not bother yourself with these things yet."

Under normal circumstances Eragon would have felt gratitude for Roran's concern. Right now, however, it only irritated him. He shook his head. "I need my mind on other things, keep talking. Please... if you would answer my questions."

The three of them warded off a desperate vendor who attempted to sell them spirit catchers. Then Arya spoke, "There is not much to tell. The Varden were left with little options when you were struck down. We were forced to hold in Belatona. As such, my kin could hardly press on from Gil'ead without our support. As for Nasuada... Jormundur is now leader of the Varden."

"Do you think Jormundur was the right decision?" Eragon asked, vaguely remembering the row between himself and the wiry general before his accident.

"If I did not, I would not have chosen him." Arya replied. She looked at Eragon out of the corner of her slanted eye. "I know why you ask. Normally, I would have condemned your actions during the siege, of late however my judgment has been skewed on such matters... and had you not aided us we may have perished in that tunnel."

Eragon said, "I'm not so sure."

The statement passed without contention. They turned a corner and ahead of them stood the curly haired witch, Angela. She was in a furious debate with an older man who's hunched shoulders made him appear small and diminished. When they approached the couple, Angela turned away from the man, who sulked and walked away.

"Eragon!" She exclaimed. "Thank the Goddess of Toads, you're alright."

Eragon grinned. "Good to see you too."

"Isn't it!" She replied. She looked at Saphira and said, "You must be glad your rider is up and around."

_Over the moon, _Saphira grunted with a twinkle her eye.

To Angela, Roran asked, "What feud were you having with that man?"

The short woman's eyes narrowed as she turned her head in the direction of the old man. "He has been selling people unripened Devil Seeds... I told him that they can be dangerous if not ripe and he ordered me to, in his words, 'shut up and stop spreading propaganda'. I think he may be a bit mad."

"No doubt," replied Arya.

"Quite," said Angela, "Anyway, I threatened to report him if he doesn't stop selling them."

Eragon asked, "What happens if you eat unripe ones?"

Angela laughed, "Absolutely nothing! They just don't taste as nice, as I discovered when I put them in my tea."

Saphira snorted, a jet of flame singed the ground in front of her.

Angela took some seeds from a satchel in her bag and handed them to Eragon. "Try some later. Don't worry- these are ripe." She returned the bag to a belt around her hip. "Orik will be wanting to see you Eragon, as will certain other parties." With a mischievous smile she pulled Eragon to one side, away from the others. In a whisper she said, "So your romance becomes apparent."

"What?" Eragon asked, his cheeks warming.

"Your elf has hardly left your side."

Eragon flicked his eyes towards Arya, who stood evidently conversion with Saphira by the blank expression on her face. "We are friends, that's all."

Angela shrugged. "If you say so."

She waved a goodbye to the others and pranced off.


	9. Lot going

Eragon stared at his famished hands, trying to find the words to explain to Saphira what he had felt during his sleep. She was eager to know, and despite not wanting to cause her discomfort, Eragon felt he owed her some explanation. A task harder than he expected.

Eventually he gave up and walked over to her snout that had pressed it's way through his window. He rested a hand on her nose. _Would you suffer my burden?_

Her words came slowly, delicately. _I would. It is my duty to share half of your pain, you would do the same for me... Yet I do not want to put you through it again._

Eragon bit his lower lip, _No, nor would I. Leave it, Saphira, for a different time of bonding._

_As you wish, _came her reluctant reply. Then she sniffed and said, _Go on. Get dressed, you would not want to be late for your own party. _

_No, I wouldn't at that. _He sighed.

Eragon had met with Orik, Orrin, and Jormundur earlier. They had all been over joyed at his return to health and Orrin insisted on holding social gathering. It was meant to be just a small circle of people attending, but somehow word slipped out about the due, and by the time it was about to begin, hundreds were expected.

Eragon normally liked festivities such as these. Today, however, he was not sure whether he could stomach the bustling crowds and screaming music. Saphira told him it was his obligation to show up, as it was being held in honor of his good health. He agreed.

He opened a cupboard that exposed a mess of fabric that, when untangled, unraveled into princely clothing. Most of his wear, he had gotten from the elves, the rest he received as gifts from King Orik, including a pair of gloves that could withstand the wears of time indefinitely.

Donned in a vibrant green tunic, Eragon made his way to the designated courtyard in which the party would be held. He walked in silence with Saphira. As they neared their destination, singing and laughter became audible. For a moment the two of them watched from a distance those who were already gathered. They resided in a large square formed by the surrounding buildings. Festive banners hung from balcony to balcony, tinsel sparkled in a large tree that was the epicenter of the court. Scores of tables lay adorned with kegs of ale and large platters of food.

Eragon sighed and entered the enclosure. He found Orik already present and immediately headed over to the gruff dwarf. Saphira was already eying the ale. _Mmm. I might just enjoy tonight,_ she said.

Eragon smiled. _Don't get too drunk and hurt yourself... or anyone else._

_I'll try not to, _she replied before sauntering over to closest barrel.

Orik offered Eragon a pipe. When he rejected it Orik said, "It seems half the Varden will be here tonight."

"It seems that way," Eragon replied. He watched as flock of birds settled on the one of the tables and began to peck at a roasted boar. It occurred to Eragon how much more impressive dwarf feasts were.

When he mentioned it to Orik, the dwarf laughed, "Aye! You'd be hard pressed to find a culture better at eating and cooking than us mountain folk. Although, I hate to admit it, but the Urgals have a few good tricks up there sleeves when it comes to the culinary arts."

Eragon grinned, "The tensions between you and the Urgals are easing?"

Orik became a little more sober. "Between _me_ and the Urgals, aye.Between many of my kin, perhaps. Between the rest there is a hatred unlike before. As with most situations radical groups form against and for a cause. It is no different now."

Eragon frowned, then said, "I see. But what about the Urgals themselves? How are they adjusting."

Orik drew a long stream from his pipe before releasing the smoke into the air. Eragon watched the smoke twist and slowly fade into the twilight. "The Urgals," said Orik, "are dealing with the situation admirably. I only wish my countrymen could do the same." He set the pipe down before turning to Eragon. "Would you forget your hatred for the Urgals? Could you?"

Eragon thought for a moment. He had seen so many horrors caused directly by the Urgals. But then, he and Garzhvog had become companions, and empathized with one another. "Yes," he answered, "I could. Whatever I may still feel towards them, I will never let it taint my judgment or actions again."

Orik smiled. "You are indeed part of the right clan. The Dûrgrimst Ingeitum are the only clan who are unanimous in supporting our alliance with the Urgals." He clapped Eragon on the upper arm and went back to smoking his pipe, small eyes glinting in the purple light.

Angela and Solembum strolled into the court looking slightly puzzled by their environment. Angela wore a dress of olive color, her curly hair frizzier than usual. Eragon grinned when he realized how toad looking she actually was.

When she spotted the Orik and Eragon she waddled over, with Solembum at her feet. She sat with a huff next to Orik. "I hate dressing up!" she said.

Solembum leaped up on the table and start rubbing against Eragon's back. A soft purr resonated from deep in his throat.

_Tell me, _said Eragon to Solembum, _why is it you like pressing your side against things like that?_

Solembum stopped and watched Eragon with a curious light in his eyes. Then he sat back on his haunches. _Tell me, _he replied, _why is it you like being a fool?_

Embarrassed, Eragon floundered for a few mumbled words. He turned away from the werecat and leaned forward for a view of Angela, who was playing with a ribbon on her dress. He said, "I tried a few of those Devil Seeds in my tea, as you suggested."

She arched an eyebrow. "Yes? And how'd you like it?"

Eragon swiveled his hand back and forth. "A little strong."

A barked laugh came from Orik, "It would be! We season our Khitrund meats with Devil Seeds. Strong is an understatement. I once had a slice of meat hot enough to burn Saphira's mouth."

_I doubt it! _Saphira's mind spoke to all around, louder than necessary. She stomped over ungracefully and sat beside the table. Solembum purred louder and dropped to her feet.

"Already inebriated?" asked Angela.

_No you are not, _replied Saphira.

Angela and Orik laughed. Saphira's intoxication crept through their mental link into Eragon, causing him to become slightly giddy. It eased his macabre mood and helped him to enjoy the fresh air.

As the group exchanged more meaningless words, the courtyard became fuller and fuller. The scattered voices and songs of earlier were now so abundant that one could not discern one sound from another. People started to dance in the middle of the square, as others sang and played instruments along.

Orrin joined in as if he were no more than a commoner, forgetting all civility. Men drank and ate heartily creating a warm banterous atmosphere. Even Jormundur, once he had arrived, relaxed into a euphoric state.

Eragon was happy to see Roran and Katrina approaching from the far side. Roran's hand rose in greeting. "Brother." He said.

"Brother, sister." Eragon replied nodding to each of the them.

Katrina, who's cheeks shone in the fairy lights, said, "I'm so glad you're alright. It would have broken Roran had you not recovered." Roran turned away, taking a sudden interest in the dancing.

"Thank you." Eragon replied, noticing a slight extra bit of body around Katrina's abdomen.

"Not long now..." said Eragon, gesturing.

Katrina put a hand on her stomach and smiled. "No, not long."

"When will you leave for the elves?"

"Soon," Roran butted in, "she will not want to travel at the tail end of her pregnancy."

Katrina leaned her head against his shoulder. "No I won't... Tell me about where I am going Eragon. What is it like?"

They three of the sat down together. Eragon thought for a moment how best to describe Ellesmera and Du Weldenvarden. His gaze drifted to Saphira who lit the up the plaza with balls of rolling flame. "Have you ever had a dream," asked Eragon, "that, in essence, is a happy dream? A dream that is beautiful, haunting, and even a bit frightening, but pleasant?"

Katrina nodded slowly. Eragon continued. "It is a wonderful place. Great trees, as old as the land itself, shadow the ground below. It is a place where nature and sentient beings merge. The very trees act as houses, steps, and even expressions of one's emotions. The plants and elves coexist, aiding each other in harmony," with a small grin, he added, "You won't find meat to eat in Du Weldenvarden. 'Tis against elvish culture to slay animals for food."

Awe twinkled in Roran and Katrina's eyes as they listened. "Magic is at home in Du Weldenvarden, and so, magical is how it feels. The only flaw with the great forest is the melancholy at not being able to share it with all those you love."

Katrina looked at Roran and took his hand lovingly.

"A fair description," came a lilting voice from beside Eragon.

Somehow Eragon hadn't noticed Arya arrive. She wore a dark, almost midnight blue dress, similar in shape to the one she'd worn in the Empire. Her hair was let down, draping delicately over her slim shoulders. "You failed to mention our celebrations, though." She said, sitting next to him.

"That is because they are indescribable."

Arya smiled. "Perhaps. In any case it will be a long time before the next."

"Why is that?" asked Katrina, looking disappointed.

Arya's eyes met Katrina's. "Almost all of Du Weldenvarden is empty. A few remain as caretakers, a few cannot fight, the rest are at war."

Katrina's eyes lowered, "I see... is there no end to the sadness and loss in war."

Roran held her closer.

Arya's face seemed to sadden a little as she watched them. "It does not seem so."

They fell into a silence. Then the musicians began to play a soft love ballad. Roran took Katrina's hand and asked, "May I have this dance?"

Katrina blushed, "You may."

Over her shoulder, Roran winked at Eragon who suddenly felt awkward next to Arya in such a situation. He looked away, before taking a quick glance at her. She too seemed a little uneasy, keeping her eyes fixed on the proceedings in front of them.

Couples stepped hand in hand, slowly swaying with the music. Eragon watched them with a deep yearning in his heart. One that he knew wouldn't be fulfilled for a long time. He felt Arya stir next to him.

"There are so many who would be with you," she said.

"What do you mean?" asked Eragon.

Arya gestured towards the couples. "There are so many women who would love to be with you. I find it hard to believe that you cannot attract any of them."

Eragon wondered why she spoke to him about this. "How many of those women that you speak of, actually know me?" he asked.

Arya remained silent.

"They would be with me," said Eragon, "simply because I am a Rider, not because of me as a person. I am in a powerful position, which means whoever I take would be too. Most of the women know this, and that is all that would attract them... that and I'm handsome." He offered her a smile that she returned.

"In that case," she said, her white teeth gleaming beneath her red lips, "you're actions are noble, and I apologize for bringing it up."

"Don't apologize... I'm surprised you decided to come tonight. Even I was reluctant."

Arya's shoulders rose and fell slightly. "I was not going to. However Nasuada convinced me to make an appearance, at least for a short while, in her stead."

"How is she?" asked Eragon.

Arya's eyebrows rose a fraction. "She fares well enough, though her isolation is taking a toll on her." Arya gestured and Eragon leaned in. Arya whispered in his ear. "She misses Murtagh."

Eragon settled back and nodded.

"I think she may try and meet with him again," Arya said.

"She cannot," Eragon exclaimed.

"No. She cannot. However, from her point of view, she has got very little to lose."

Eragon thought about it. How could she continue to jeopardize the Varden. Risk all her work. It didn't make sense to him. Though, when he thought about what lengths he would go for Arya, it almost did. A sad crept into Eragon when he thought about her situation. And Murtagh's. How different life could have been.

"I-" Eragon began, but a pressure gathered in his head. It gripped his mind like an iron clamp until he had to submit. It had taken him so by surprise that he couldn't resist it. A familiar voice entered his mind. A voice that belonged to whom they'd just been discussing. Murtagh.

_Eragon. I mean no harm. _His voice was sincere and sad. _Please tell Arya to stop fighting me._

_How do I know you mean no harm? _Asked Eragon.

He repeated his oath in the ancient language. _You'll have to trust me, _he added.

Eragon decided to. He looked at Arya, who sat blank faced, in a silent struggle with Murtagh. "Arya... Arya! Let him speak."

Arya's fierce eyes turned on him. Eragon nodded, hoping she would do ask he asked. She did.

_Good, _said Murtagh, _now that I have your attention; I know about Nasuada, I know that you know. I thank you for protecting her and my unborn son._

_Oh you're so very welcome, _replied Eragon, his tone harsh.

Murtagh hesitated, _Yes. I know our friendship is over, Eragon. I've committed to many sins against the Varden to be absolved. I cannot hope to wash my hands now, it is far too late._

_Why do you contact us now, then, Murtagh? _Asked Arya.

_Follow my instructions carefully, and you will get your reward. It is all I can do for you and the Varden. I'm sorry, Eragon. It saddens me beyond expression that we are doomed to fight each other._

Eragon struggled to maintain his composure. _Just tell us what you will Murtagh._

There was a silence. Then, _One hour from now... _he proceeded to give them directions which, if followed would lead them almost many leagues around the western edge of Leona lake into the surrounding hills. He gave them a time slot and a specific clearing in which they must wait. Then he said, _We will never again talk as allies... good bye._

With that he was gone.

When Eragon returned to himself he turned to Arya. "What do you think?"

Arya pursed her lips. "I think we've no choice but to trust his words. We have to be swift. I must change out of this dress, however."

Eragon asked, "What about Blodhgarm, he will not be happy if I leave them behind again."

Arya hesitated. "I will tell him not to abandon his duty for the time being. He will trust me."

Arya and Eragon made to leave the party silently. Once they had freed themselves of the crowd they agreed to get a few supplies and prepare for their trip. They set a meeting time and place; one hour in front of Eragon's building.

When he told Saphira of their encounter with Murtagh, she asked, _Did he tell you what you would find?_

_No, I can only hope it's useful._

_I wish I could go with you. _Saphira shuffled her wings.

Eragon smiled. _I know, I wish you could too. It's the price you pay for being a massive, ferocious __dragon._

_You're kind. Be quick, _she said, _and stay close to Arya._

_I will._

They waited in silence for the next several minutes. Then Arya strode up to them, once again, in her leather attire. She rested a quick hand on Saphira's jaw before saying to Eragon, "Let us be off. We must not be late."

The two of them set off, out of the city. The sound of the festivities continued behind them as their fleeting strides took them beyond the city walls. Once out of Belatona they began to skirt the lake edge as Murtagh had instructed them to do.

Arya's expression was one of focused determination. Eragon wondered whether she was thinking about what they would find. He didn't want to speculate as it would set him up for a severe disappointment. However one idea remained prominent in his mind, he didn't voice it in an attempt to subdue his hope. It was a vain attempt. The third dragon egg continued to float around his mind. What would it mean for the Varden?

He quickened his pace when he realized he was lagging behind Arya. The bright moon shone high in the cold night, lonely and distant. It lent an odd glazing of light over the lake and surrounding land. The snow on the distant mountains reflected a faint glow, perceptible only due to his elven sight. However, none of the scenery held his interest, only their destination.

After two and a half hours had passed, they came to a small grove which jutted over the water's still surface. Arya turned to him, "This is where we head west. We must be fast."

They took off at a pace quicker than their previous. The land seemed to skim by as their light feet skipped off the soft ground. A swallow whipped past Eragon's head, he followed it with his eyes until it was out of sight.

Arya's pony-tailed hair entranced Eragon while he ran behind her. It kept his thoughts off of Murtagh and the unremarkable land. Time seemed to pass quickly when he thought about Arya, and so he did. For hours he dreamt of holding her in his arms, running his hand through her silky hair.

Then, before he knew it, they reached the foothills. Arya slowed to a stop and looked around. She strolled to and fro tracing unknown details with her sharp eyes. "We are too far south," She said, "Come. We will head north."

It took a further twenty minutes before they found the clearing Murtagh had foretold. Arya scanned the area briefly before sitting, crossing her long legs. The proximity was flat and grassy, contained by a formation of small outcroppings.

Eragon studied the area for a while before dropping next to her. He winced slightly as his legs spasmed and cramped from the day's strenuous running. He rubbed and tried to soothe his burning calves.

Arya who watched from beside him said, "You should continue to perform the Rimgar when you can, else you risk losing your flexibility and stamina."

Eragon realized he had lapsed in that respect. "I will remember that."

The cold air forced Eragon to cross his arms over his chest. A gentle breeze whispered wordlessly in his ears, drying his eyes and lips. He stared emptily into the darkness. He recalled the days spent traveling with Brom, pursuing the Ra'zac. Then his mind drifted to Murtagh and what he had said to them; 'we are doomed to fight each other'. Eragon didn't necessarily believe it, but pitied that Murtagh had given in to such a morbid fate.

With the faint sadness he felt, came a sudden influx of dramatic emotions that threatened to consume him. It was a similar attack to that Eragon had felt in his coma, and he desperately steered away from it. Fortunately the episode was not nearly as powerful as the first time, and he managed to shake himself free of it.

Arya must have notice, for she asked, "What is the matter?"

Eragon took a moment to draw a few ragged breaths before replying. "Nothing. I... nothing." He hadn't even divulged the full gravity of his malady to Saphira, let alone anyone else, and was reluctant to relinquish what he had experienced now.

Arya, however, was not satisfied. "If you are hurt," she said, "you must tell me. I can't have running about if you could fall at any moment."

"I'm alright!" snapped Eragon.

A light gleamed in the elf's piercing eyes. "Whom do you wish to deceive? I've known you too long for that, Eragon. You must tell me; what ails you?"

Eragon felt his anger boil over. "Why! Why must I tell you?" He pounded the earth in frustration. "You once told me your thoughts were your own. Does it change for me? How can you demand answers when you yourself give none?"

Arya appeared stung by his rant. She fell silent. Eragon's chest heaved as his temper slowly diminished. Then Arya spoke. Tenderly she said, "The first few months after I awoke from the Skilna Bragh, my will had left me. The cause became a vague thing in my mind, and those who looked to me for companionship, and love, recieved none." She pulled her legs close to her chest. "Then I realized my view on life was tainted. Your outlook is one that everyone should strive to have, for it is one of innocence and optimism. What I initially took to be naivety from you, I realized it was not. How you view the world is simply... _untainted._"

She laughed then. A strange, mocking laugh. "My mother may be a great many things, but loving she is not. My father was the warm one, the one to hold me when I cried, when I was sick, when I was happy. Somewhere along the way he was taken from me... as well as his influence. Whatever part of him I had inside of me was lost during my captivity. I know, now, that I have been cold without need, distant without reason."

Arya reached out and took Eragon's hand. "You say I answer no questions. Did I not answer your queries in the Empire? What I told you then, I have not spoken in such a way to anyone else. You helped me return to myself and reconnect with life, the way my father had taught me. I owe you everything, and if I could return the gesture I would."

Eragon had never guessed he'd had such an effect on Arya. He knew the reaction he had provoked from her was strong, but he didn't see it as such a deep matter. He wanted to ask why, then, would she not return his passion. His heart begged to cry for her love until she submitted. But he had promised that he would never again, against her will, pursue her.

I took a good few minutes for Eragon to gather his thoughts. He couldn't decide how best to describe his nightmare, so he just started talking. He first described the dream he'd had of the path of trees which led to the great obelisk of stone. He described the weaving lines that twisted upon it's surface. He described the voice, the comforting voice.

Then he came to the violence he'd encountered afterward. He trembled as he recalled it. "I've suffered intense pain before," he said, "emotional and physical pain. I've lost love ones. I'm no stranger to misery. But this was different. It stripped me of all defenses. I couldn't even hide behind my despair. I couldn't shield myself with even the worst thoughts. It was as if my bare soul were being beaten to a pulp. I can't... I can't describe eloquently enough the agony I felt." He fell silent unsure how else to continue.

Arya had listened quietly the whole time. Her hand hadn't left Eragon's. He noticed this and said, "It was your hand that brought me out of it. I felt your fingers around mine- my only link to the outside world. Remnants of the pain are still in me, which is why I faltered tonight. I can't shake the horror of what I felt. I don't know if I ever will." He shrugged, then asked, "Have you ever heard anything like it before?"

Arya's eyebrows met in a V as she frowned. "No," she admitted, "not anything to the degree that describe. It was undoubtedly a spell that Galbatorix invented to break your spirit. It must have been terrible indeed if the cost of casting it on you was a score of his powerful magicians."

Despite his unease at talking about it, he did find it somewhat placating to tell someone. He still feared that it would take him again. His neck prickled and his grip tightened accidentally on Arya's hand. She watched him closely.

"What happened," Eragon asked, "to the remaining spell caster?"

"He died soon after- before we could question him."

"Pity."

They remained holding each others' hands. Their shoulders were touching as they leaned against one another, warding off the growing cold. Eragon had almost forgotten that they were waiting for Murtagh's mystery object. He wondered whether Murtagh had lied.

Just as he was about to voice his concern, a nearby explosion jolted Eragon up. It had occurred just outside of the clearing, with a flash of red light reflecting dully off of the rocky hillsides.

Arya and Eragon stood alert for any sign of danger. Eragon started to speak but Arya held a finger for silence. Then she gestured to the explosion. She crept ahead of him, low and cat like. He followed in a similar manner, his muscles tight and drawn.

Arya gasped suddenly, startling him. "Look!" she said, pointing an elegant finger.

Eragon followed her aim until he saw what she indicated. In the middle of the scorched terrain sat all he had not dare hope for. A green dragon egg.


	10. Ram flying

Eragon rushed forward only to be restrained by Arya.

"We do not know what wards may be placed upon it," she explained.

"So what do we do?" Eragon asked.

Arya's sharp eyes scanned the surroundings. Eragon was taken with how becoming she looked under the moon's light, the wind dragging a strand of raven black hair across her delicate face. "We want to leave here soon. I will assess and deal with any magic which might be placed upon it."

"Will that not take too long, I thought breaking curses was a difficult feat for even veteran spell casters!" Eragon challenged.

"Am I not a veteran? Anyway, you miss understand, I do not seek to break any curse, merely to subdue it, such is possible."

Eragon could not fathom it, "How?"

"I have not the time to teach you. Leave me in peace for a moment. I must be quick." She strode past him and halted a few feet from the egg. It shimmered a pale green as she approached it. Eragon's chest tightened with mild anxiety as he watched, fearing some unseen attack on Arya. It never came.

And so he waited, pacing back and forth, watching the glinting stars in the night's sky. He grew colder the longer he waited and miserably rubbed his hands together. Every now and then he took a furtive glance at Arya who remained whispering into the breeze. Then he sighed and sat on the ground facing the plains.

Eragon gazed into the dark emptily, his mind swam almost too quickly. The current of his thoughts too strong to pluck any one consideration. Then a disturbance caught his eyes. His heart quickened as he strained his senses to their utmost.

Out from the dark cantered a ram. It was different from those in the dwarvish mountains, this ram was small, clever. A gray mat of fur covered the lean structure of his body. His intuitive eyes met with Eragons'. Then he spoke; a soft voice, innocent in tone like a child's yet rasping in the fashion of the old.

_Where am I?_ The voice asked.

_I_... _uh... here I suppose,_ was Eragon's unsure answer.

The ram snorted. _You don't know where you are?_

_Not exactly. _Eragon gestured toward Arya. _She could tell you better than I._

_ Better you find out for yourself, else you end up like me._

_ Who are you? _Eragon asked.

The ram sat and said, _I know not. Who I am, where I am, and why: these things are lost to me._

Distantly Eragon replied, _What I would give to know your past._

_ What I would give to know your future, _the ram spoke so caressingly.

Then he shook his front left hoof, turned and trotted off. Leaving Eragon wondering at the occurrence.

Despite the strangeness of the whole situation Eragon could not help but feel a sadness for the mysterious creature. To be eternally lost would be hell. It then struck him just how queer and rare it was to find a talking animal. Dragons and werecats he knew about, but talking rams?

"A curious thing just happened," he said to Arya as she stood.

"You must tell me later, I have wrapped the egg in a magical cocoon of my own magic which will keep us from harm. Until further inspection I cannot begin to remove any of the spells which have- and they have- been imbued."

Eragon shrugged. "Alright."

And so once again the couple took flight, two demons in an alien world. Eragon felt like a thief in the night. He felt like a child again suddenly. How many games had he as a child played, how many fantasies had he acted out never dreaming that they would come true. How he missed those moments, which would forever elude his grasp.

He pondered the ram as he ran. With each step he regretted more that he had not interacted a little more deeply with the beast. He would tell Saphira. Perhaps she could tell him more. A secret intuition among four legged creatures? Nothing seemed impossible to Eragon anymore.

The travel back seemed far quicker than it had been the other direction. Without the anxiety of what they were to find Eragon was able to run with a much freer mind. They entered the camp stealthily, careful to avoid the groping eyes of the city guards. Eragon found the biggest struggle was attempting to stem Saphira's excitement.

_You must stay where you are,_ he said, _we don't want to alert anyone._

_ Fine. But hurry!_

Arya stopped before the building in which they resided. She spoke quietly, "Gather Orrin, Orik, and Jormundur, then meet me in my room. Impress the need for discretion." With that she turned and left him standing alone.


	11. Ponder

**Hello! Been ages, I know. Don't be angry... especially you over there. In my defense I lost interest for a while. Got to try other things man! La vida Loca. Turns out the other things weren't that good so i came back.**

**Be lenient while i try to get back in the swing of things.**

**//////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
**

The stunning image of Izlanzadi appeared, clear and regal upon the mirror's surface.

Now Eragon, Jormundur, Orrin, Orik, and Arya stood to attendance before the terrible empress of the wooded realms. The Queen's face was taut and grim as she spoke. "'Tis good to see you well, my daughter... you too Eragon... Orik." Her eyes ferreted out the King of Surda and the leader of the Varden. "We've yet to meet. I am Izlanzadi. You are allies, thus I offer you cordial greeting. I am afraid, however, pleasantries are to my distaste. Have you ought of importance to say?" She asked, her sharp brow arching.

Both Jormundur and Orrin stood halfway between awkward bows and indecipherable words. Finally Orrin gathered himself enough to say, "Not us, your majesty, but..." He gestured toward Arya and Eragon.

It was at this point that Arya said, "Mother, something amazing has happened. Something that may lend us the weight needed to tip the scale of our fortunes."

Izlanzadi parted her hands expectantly, "Indeed? Well, don't hesitated. Show me!"

Arya turned and knelt. She pulled from a linen bag the egg, keeping it concealed from view. Then she stood and, with excitement evident perhaps only to Eragon, presented the webbed green stone to the mirror.

The Queen's beautiful eyes widened. Her lips reached for words beyond her grasp. She made forward as if to grab the egg, then she hesitated. She held up a finger and retreated from the mirror's view.

Arya frowned. She lowered her hands, egg cradled in her arms. Eragon took the moment to view the scene in which Izlanzadi had been standing. It looked like the inside of a thicket. Brambled vines and branches twisted and weaved into rough walls. A single chair sat half out of frame, knotted and leafy.

Then Izlanzadi returned with a silver haired male elf who's face was scarred. The blemish on his face was worn as a medal; he could have removed it had he wanted. Izlanzadi addressed Arya, "Show him." Her voice was cool, demanding. When Arya looked questioningly at the scarred elf, Izlanzadi sighed, "Faedr is an expert on curses and magical devices such as traps and other hidden threats. Now if you would please do as I ask." Her dexterous hand cycled in the air.

Arya once again held aloft the emerald egg. The light behind seemed to render it translucent. Each vein pulsed and shimmered within it's casing. Faedr moved closer, his eyes narrowing. He uttered a few words in the ancient language. Nothing happened. The silver haired elf then stepped back and said something quietly in Izlanzadi's ear, who's eyes remained firmly fixed on the image before her. Faedr left the view of the frame.

Izlanzadi spoke, "At such a distance he cannot adequately tell what wards have been placed on the object, or if it is even what we believe it is and not a decoy." Her gaze fixed on Arya. "The egg must be brought here, to me in Gil'ead."

Arya's eyes widened, "It would be unwise to transport the egg at this moment. Surely spies are watching the area between us and you."

Izlanzadi clasped her hands. "That is why you must have the appropriate protection. Have a few of Eragon's guards accompany you into the south through Surda, then east into the desert. From there we will have sent further spell casters to ensure your safety to Gil'ead."

"_Me_?" asked Arya flintily, "I am needed here at the Varden, as are Eragon's guards. You will have to wait for the egg."

An awkward silence pervaded the room. Eragon watched intently as Izlanzadi's face contorted with restrained fury. She then seemed to calm herself. A strange smile lit her face, though her eyes remained cold. "You would defy your Monarch and Mother again?" Her smile deepened. "Or perhaps I am no longer your Monarch."

Arya looked taken aback. "Mother, if you have something personal you wish to discuss, now is not the time." She gestured to the others in the room.

The elven Queen's eyes gazed dreamily beyond Arya. "It isn't the time..." Then she shook as if she'd received a sudden shock. "The egg _will _be brought to me- as will the tale of how you came to receive it- or you renounce your people, and your Mother."

Arya's mouth dropped a little, "Why say you that?"

The smile once again spread across Izlanzadi's face. Her lips stretched to the very edge of sincerity. "I say it because I cannot have you disobeying my orders at your whims. My word must be law. Now, what say you?"

Arya hesitated, then glanced at Eragon. _She wants control of the egg. The elves would not have another human rider..._

Eragon was caught a bit off guard. He tried not to let his expression betray him. _She would risk your life, and the dragon egg?_

_ She's done it before._

_ What can we do?_

_ Do I have a choice? _

Before Eragon could reply, Arya turned her attention back on her mother. "The egg will be brought to Gil'ead. I will do as you ask."

Izlanzadi was clearly pleased. The tight lines that creased her mouth and brow eased as she said, "Good. I'm glad you have not forgotten your roots."

Arya merely nodded, her eyes pointed down. The image of Izlanzadi wavered and finally diminished into nothing. When the Queen had disappeared Orik huffed, "This is ridiculous! Galbatorix will surely capture you and reattain the egg!"

Jormundur turned. "I agree. Now is the worst possible time to try and move the egg."

Eragon spotted a glint in Arya's eye that made him wonder. He understood her emotion. "You have no intention of leaving the Varden."

She smiled suddenly at Eragon. "No." Then she repositioned herself so that she faced all of them. "Every race has it's faults and the elves are no exception. Discrimination still festers in the heart of the Fair Race and shall continue to do so for years to come." She gestured at Eragon. "A sentiment I do not share."

Orrin asked, "But what about the Queen? She will not be happy and the Varden can't risk their alliance with the elves."

A determination burned in Arya's eyes as she looked at him. "I will talk to her on my own time. Her threats are empty; do not fear for our cause."

Orik tugged on his beard, running his fingers down each braid. Then he said, "A risky game you play Arya, and I like it!"

Eragon asked, "What will we do with the egg? We need it to hatch, but exposing it might make it vulnerable to both petty thieves and those of a more insidious nature."

Arya replied, "For now, we will expose it only to those whom we can trust, then if the need becomes dire I will present it to the rest of the Varden." A hint of uncertainty tainted her voice. Eragon picked up on it but did not inquire.

When a silence began to creep Eragon said to Jormundur and Orrin, "I thought you would be angry that we left without telling you."

Orrin laughed, "Normally we would have been! In light of what you have returned with, we can hardly complain."

With a scowl Jormundur said, "I'm still not over impressed." Then he too laughed.

Orik pulled a pipe from his pocket and began to wipe the mouthpiece with a cloth, then he eyed Arya. "If you don't plan on returning the egg to your people, how will we purify it?"

Arya's slim frame leaned against her desk as she replied, "My abilities are competent enough. With the help of Blodhgarm, I am confident it will take only a few days to remove any harmful spells."

"Speaking of Blodhgarm; do my guards know I'm back?"

"Yes," Arya answered, "I alerted them after we arrived."

The group fell quiet again.

Then Orrin's booming voice jarred the quiet. "Well! What a night! And here I was expecting little more excitement than a dance with a pretty maid. However I must retire. My limbs grow heavy and dawn will come much to soon. Good night fellow strugglers." With that he was out the door, closing it heavily.

Jormundur followed closely behind, muttering similar goodbyes. Then Orik clapped and spun to Eragon and Arya. "Good friends! I may not be as outspoken as Orrin, but perhaps my company will suffice. Who wishes to share a couple pints of the strongest ale with me?"

Eragon laughed and rested a hand on Orik's shoulder, "Good friend, I love you, however nothing sounds worse at the moment. What I need is a good snuggle next to a cozy, giant fire breathing lizard."

_Im not so drunk, I can still hear you! _Saphira warned.

_ I know._

A humph was her only reply.

Orik laughed, "Fair enough, fair enough. Humans are lightweight drinkers anyway, even if they are riders." Then his merry gaze caught Arya's.

She smiled. "Perhaps another time, but tonight, I think, you are on your own Orik. I'm sorry."

Orik swatted the empty air. "Ah! A bunch of kill joys. You wouldn't last two minutes as dwarves. Now I must go find some no good, dirty drunk to spend my night singing and drinking with."

"You could go to sleep," Eragon suggested.

As he left, Orik shouted over his shoulder, "Wouldn't do, Eragon, just wouldn't do!"

The door closed with a thud. Eragon stood with an empty mind and sore eyes. Then Arya shifted next to him. He started, "I'm sorry, I forgot this was your room."

She picked up the egg and placed it inside a case which she lifted and held out. "Don't be," she said, "perhaps, however, you should take the egg."

"Me? Why?"

"You are the last free dragon rider, is it not your right?"

Eragon didn't understand... unless... "It isn't really a question of who's right it is. Why do you not want it?"

Arya lowered her arms and placed the case on the bed. "I would have it. I just thought..." Her voice trailed of uncertainly.

_She is afraid of the responsibility, _he realized. "You keep it. I know why you hesitate."

She looked up with bold and large eyes. "Do you?" She asked. "Do you really?"

"You feel you failed Saphira? You did not keep her safe."

Arya nodded. "I did fail, she was lost."

Eragon shook his head. "No. She was not. She was with me."

"But I knew not! She could have just as easily been in Galbatorix's hands."

Eragon took a step closer, "Do you believe in wyrda Arya? I know you do."

She nodded.

"Then you know that it was meant to be. You are destined to keep this egg safe now. 'Ifs' and 'could haves' are empty notions, and you know it." He removed the egg from the case and offered it to her. "Take it," he said.

Arya hesitated, then she slowly reached out and grasped the egg, the cuff of her sleeve brushing Eragon's wrist. She held the egg up. "Thank you."

Eragon nodded then said, "Now put it back in the case."

Arya laughed, then a slight frown took her as she returned the egg to the box. She brushed a strand of fallen hair behind her pointed ear and said, "Goodnight."

Eragon inclined his head and repeated, "Goodnight."


End file.
